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FELIX  HOLT,  THE  BADICAK 


J[/TR-  LYON  FINDING  THE  STRANGE 
1V1  WOMAN  AND  CHILD.  Photogravure. 
From  drawing  by  Frank  T.  Merrill. 


The  Complete  Works 

of 

George  Eliot 


FELIX   HOLT 
THE    RADICAL 

VOLUME    I 

ILLUSTRATED 


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ILLUSTRATIONS 

Vol.  I. 

Mr.  Lyon  finding  the  Strange  Woman  and  Child 

(p.  112)       Frontispiece 

Felix  Holt  and  Esther  Lton  in  the  Kitchen    .     Page  168 

Mr.  Lton  and  Christian 224 

Felix  Holt  and  Job  Trudge 308 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  EADICAL. 


INTRODUCTION. 

Five-and-thikty  years  ago  the  glory  had  not  yet 
departed  from  the  old  coach-roads ;  the  great  road- 
side inns  were  still  brilliant  with  well-polished 
tankards,  the  smiling  glances  of  pretty  barmaids, 
and  the  repartees  of  jocose  ostlers ;  the  mail  still 
announced  itself  by  the  merry  notes  of  the  horn; 
the  hedge-cutter  or  the  rick-thatcher  might  still 
know  the  exact  hour  by  the  unfailing  yet  otherwise 
meteoric  apparition  of  the  pea-green  Tally-ho  or  the 
yellow  Independent ;  and  elderly  gentlemen  in  pony 
chaises,  quartering  nervously  to  make  way  for  the 
rolling,  swinging  swiftness,  had  not  ceased  to  re- 
mark that  times  were  finely  changed  since  they 
used  to  see  the  pack-horses  and  hear  the  tinkling 
of  their  bells  on  this  very  highway. 

In  those  days  there  were  pocket  boroughs,  a  Bir- 
mingham unrepresented  in  Parliament  and  com- 
pelled to  make  strong  representations  out  of  it, 
unrepealed  corn-laws,  three-and-sixpenny  letters,  a 
brawny  and  many-breeding  pauperism,  and  other 
departed  evils ;  but  there  were  some  pleasant  things, 
too,  which  have  also  departed.  Non  omnia  gran- 
dior  cetas  quce  fugiamus  habet,  says  the  wise  god- 


4  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

dess:  you  have  not  the  best  of  it  in  all  things, 
O  youngsters  !  the  elderly  man  has  his  enviable 
memories ;  and  not  the  least  of  them  is  the  memory 
of  a  long  journey  in  mid-spring  or  autumn  on  the 
outside  of  a  stage-coach.  Posterity  may  be  shot, 
like  a  bullet  through  a  tube,  by  atmospheric  pres- 
sure from  Winchester  to  Newcastle,  —  that  is  a  fine 
result  to  have  among  our  hopes ;  but  the  slow  old- 
fashioned  way  of  getting  from  one  end  of  our  coun- 
try to  the  other  is  the  better  thing  to  have  in  the 
memory.  The  tube-journey  can  never  lend  much 
to  picture  and  narrative ;  it  is  as  barren  as  an  ex- 
clamatory Oh !  Whereas  the  happy  outside  pas- 
senger seated  on  the  box  from  the  dawn  to  the 
gloaming  gathered  enough  stories  of  English  life, 
enough  of  English  labours  in  town  and  country, 
enough  aspects  of  earth  and  sky,  to  make  episodes 
for  a  modern  Odyssey.  Suppose  only  that  his  jour- 
ney took  him  through  that  central  plain,  watered  at 
one  extremity  by  the  Avon,  at  the  other  by  the 
Trent.  As  the  morning  silvered  the  meadows  with 
their  long  lines  of  bushy  willows  marking  the 
watercourses,  or  burnished  the  golden  corn-ricks 
clustered  near  the  long  roofs  of  some  midland 
homestead,  he  saw  the  full-uddered  cows  driven 
from  their  pasture  to  the  early  milking.  Perhaps 
it  was  the  shepherd,  head-servant  of  the  farm,  who 
drove  them,  his  sheep-dog  following  with  a  heedless, 
unofficial  air  as  of  a  beadle  in  undress.  The  shep- 
herd with  a  slow  and  slouching  walk,  timed  by  the 
walk  of  grazing  beasts,  moved  aside,  as  if  unwill- 
ingly, throwing  out  a  monosyllabic  hint  to  his 
cattle  ;  his  glance,  accustomed  to  rest  on  things  very 
near  the  earth,  seemed  to  lift  itself  with  difficulty 
to  the  coachman.     Mail  or  stage  coach  for  him  be- 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  5 

longed  to  that  mysterious  distant  system  of  things 
called  "  Gover'ment,"  which,  whatever  it  might  be, 
was  no  business  of  his,  any  more  than  the  most 
outlying  nebula  or  the  coal-sacks  of  the  southern 
hemisphere  ;  his  solar  system  was  the  parish ;  the 
master's  temper  and  the  casualties  of  lambing-time 
were  his  region  of  storms.  He  cut  his  bread  and 
bacon  with  his  pocket-knife,  and  felt  no  bitterness 
except  in  the  matter  of  pauper  labourers  and  the 
bad  luck  that  sent  contrarious  seasons  and  the 
sheep-rot.  He  and  his  cows  were  soon  left  behind, 
and  the  homestead  too,  with  its  pond  overhung  by 
elder-trees,  its  untidy  kitchen-garden,  and  cone- 
shaped  yew-tree  arbour.  But  everywhere  the  bushy 
hedgerows  wasted  the  land  with  their  straggling 
beauty,  shrouded  the  grassy  borders  of  the  pastures 
with  catkined  hazels,  and  tossed  their  long  black- 
berry branches  on  the  cornfields.  Perhaps  they 
were  white  with  May,  or  starred  with  pale  pink 
dog-roses  ;  perhaps  the  urchins  were  already  nutting 
amongst  them,  or  gathering  the  plenteous  crabs.  It 
was  worth  the  journey  only  to  see  those  hedgerows, 
the  liberal  homes  of  unmarketable  beauty,  —  of  the 
purple-blossomed  ruby-berried  nightshade,  of  the 
wild  convolvulus  climbing  and  spreading  in  ten- 
drilled  strength  till  it  made  a  great  curtain  of  pale- 
green  hearts  and  white  trumpets,  of  the  many-tubed 
honeysuckle  which  in  its  most  delicate  fragrance 
hid  a  charm  more  subtle  and  penetrating  than 
beauty.  Even  if  it  were  winter,  the  hedgerows 
showed  their  coral,  the  scarlet  haws,  the  deep-crim- 
son hips,  with  lingering  brown  leaves  to  make  a 
resting-place  for  the  jewels  of  the  hoar-frost.  Such 
hedgerows  were  often  as  tall  as  the  labourers'  cot- 
tages dotted   along   the   lanes,  or  clustered  into  a 


6  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

small  hamlet,  their  little  dingy  windows  telling, 
like  thick-filmed  eyes,  of  nothing  but  the  darkness 
within.  The  passenger  on  the  coach-box,  bowled 
along  above  such  a  hamlet,  saw  chiefly  the  roofs 
of  it ;  probably  turned  its  back  on  the  road,  and 
seemed  to  lie  away  from  everything  but  its  own 
patch  of  earth  and  sky,  away  from  the  parish 
church  by  long  fields  and  green  lanes,  away  from 
all  intercourse  except  that  of  tramps.  If  its  face 
could  be  seen,  it  was  most  likely  dirty ;  but  the  dirt 
was  Protestant  dirt,  and  the  big,  bold,  gin-breathing 
tramps  were  Protestant  tramps.  There  was  no  sign 
of  superstition  near,  no  crucifix  or  image  to  indicate 
a  misguided  reverence ;  the  inhabitants  were  prob- 
ably so  free  from  superstition  that  they  were  in 
much  less  awe  of  the  parson  than  of  the  overseer. 
Yet  they  were  saved  from  the  excesses  of  Protestan- 
tism by  not  knowing  how  to  read,  and  by  the 
absence  of  handlooms  and  mines  to  be  the  pioneers 
of  Dissent ;  they  were  kept  safely  in  the  via  media 
of  indifference,  and  could  have  registered  themselves 
in  the  census  by  a  big  black  mark  as  members 
of  the  Church  of  England. 

But  there  were  trim,  cheerful  villages  too,  with 
a  neat  or  handsome  parsonage  and  gray  church  set 
in  the  midst ;  there  was  the  pleasant  tinkle  of  the 
blacksmith's  anvil,  the  patient  cart-horses  waiting 
at  his  door;  the  basket-maker  peeling  his  willow 
wands  in  the  sunshine;  the  wheelwright  putting 
the  last  touch  to  a  blue  cart  with  red  wheels ;  here 
and  there  a  cottage  with  bright,  transparent  win- 
dows showing  pots  full  of  blooming  balsams  or 
geraniums,  and  little  gardens  in  front  all  double 
daisies  or  dark  wallflowers ;  at  the  well,  clean  and 
comely  women  carrying  yoked  buckets,  and  towards 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  7 

the  free  school  small  Britons  dawdling  on,  and 
handling  their  marbles  in  the  pockets  of  unpatched 
corduroys  adorned  with  brass  buttons.  The  land 
around  was  rich  and  marly,  great  corn-stalks  stood 
in  the  rickyards,  —  for  the  rick-burners  had  not 
found  their  way  hither ;  the  homesteads  were  those 
of  rich  farmers  who  paid  no  rent,  or  had  the  rare 
advantage  of  a  lease,  and  could  afford  to  keep  their 
corn  till  prices  had  risen.  The  coach  would  be  sure 
to  overtake  some  of  them  on  their  way  to  their  out- 
lying fields  or  to  the  market-town,  sitting  heavily 
on  their  well-groomed  horses,  or  weighing  down  one 
side  of  an  olive-green  gig.  They  probably  thought 
of  the  coach  with  some  contempt,  as  an  accommo- 
dation for  people  who  had  not  their  own  gigs,  or 
who,  wanting  to  travel  to  London  and  such  distant 
places,  belonged  to  the  trading  and  less  solid  part 
of  the  nation.  The  passenger  on  the  box  could  see 
that  this  was  the  district  of  protuberant  optimists, 
sure  that  Old  England  was  the  best  of  all  possible 
countries,  and  that  if  there  were  any  facts  which 
had  not  fallen  under  their  own  observation,  they 
were  facts  not  worth  observing, — the  district  of  clean 
little  market-towns  without  manufactures,  of  fat 
livings,  an  aristocratic  clergy,  and  low  poor-rates. 
But  as  the  day  wore  on,  the  scene  would  change ; 
the  land  would  begin  to  be  blackened  with  coal- 
pits, the  rattle  of  handlooms  to  be  heard  in  hamlets 
and  villages.  Here  were  powerful  men,  walking 
queerly  with  knees  bent  outward  from  squatting 
in  the  mine,  going  home  to  throw  themselves  down 
in  their  blackened  flannel  and  sleep  through  the 
daylight,  then  rise  and  spend  much  of  their  high 
wages  at  the  alehouse  with  their  fellows  of  the 
Benefit  Club;   here  the  pale,  eager  faces  of  hand- 


8  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

loom-weavers,  men  and  women,  haggard  from  sit- 
ting up  late  at  night  to  finish  the  week's  work, 
hardly  begun  till  the  Wednesday.  Everywhere 
the  cottages  and  the  small  children  were  dirty,  for 
the  languid  mothers  gave  their  strength  to  the 
loom,  —  pious  Dissenting  women,  perhaps,  who  took 
life  patiently,  and  thought  that  salvation  depended 
chiefly  on  predestination,  and  not  at  all  on  cleanliness. 
The  gables  of  Dissenting  chapels  now  made  a  visi- 
ble sign  of  religion,  and  of  a  meeting-place  to 
counterbalance  the  alehouse,  even  in  the  hamlets ; 
but  if  a  couple  of  old  termagants  were  seen  tearing 
each  other's  caps,  it  was  a  safe  conclusion  that  if 
they  had  not  received  the  sacraments  of  the  Church, 
they  had  not  at  least  given  in  to  schismatic  rites, 
and  were  free  from  the  errors  of  Voluntaryism. 
The  breath  of  the  manufacturing  town,  which  made 
a  cloudy  day  and  a  red  gloom  by  night  on  the  ho- 
rizon, diffused  itself  over  all  the  surrounding  coun- 
try, filling  the  air  with  eager  unrest.  Here  was  a 
population  not  convinced  that  Old  England  was  as 
good  as  possible  ;  here  were  multitudinous  men  and 
women,  aware  that  their  religion  was  not  exactly 
the  religion  of  their  rulers,  who  might  therefore  be 
better  than  they  were,  and  who,  if  better,  might 
alter  many  things  which  now  made  the  world  per- 
haps more  painful  than  it  need  be,  and  certainly 
more  sinful.  Yet  there  were  the  gray  steeples  too, 
and  the  churchyards,  with  their  grassy  mounds  and 
venerable  headstones,  sleeping  in  the  sunlight; 
there  were  broad  fields  and  homesteads,  and  fine 
old  woods  covering  a  rising  ground,  or  stretching 
far  by  the  roadside,  allowing  only  peeps  at  the 
park  and  mansion  which  they  shut  in  from  the 
working-day  world.     In  these  midland  districts  the 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  o 

traveller  passed  rapidly  from  one  phase  of  English 
life  to  another:  after  looking  down  on  a  village 
dingy  with  coal-dust,  noisy  with  the  shaking  of 
looms,  he  might  skirt  a  parish  all  of  fields,  high 
hedges,  and  deep-rutted  lanes ;  after  the  coach  had 
rattled  over  the  pavement  of  a  manufacturing  town, 
the  scene  of  riots  and  trades-union  meetings,  it 
would  take  him  in  another  ten  minutes  into  a  rural 
region,  where  the  neighbourhood  of  the  town  was 
only  felt  in  the  advantages  of  a  near  market  for 
corn,  cheese,  and  hay,  and  where  men  with  a  con- 
siderable banking  account  were  accustomed  to  say 
that  "  they  never  meddled  with  politics  themselves." 
The  busy  scenes  of  the  shuttle  and  the  wheel,  of 
the  roaring  furnace,  of  the  shaft  and  the  pulley, 
seemed  to  make  but  crowded  nests  in  the  midst  of 
the  large-spaced,  slow-moving  life  of  homesteads 
and  far-away  cottages  and  oak-sheltered  parks. 
Looking  at  the  dwellings  scattered  amongst  the 
woody  flats  and  the  ploughed  uplands,  under  the 
low  gray  sky  which  overhung  them  with  an  unchang- 
ing stillness  as  if  Time  itself  were  pausing,  it  was 
easy  for  the  traveller  to  conceive  that  town  and 
country  had  no  pulse  in  common,  except  where  the 
handlooms  made  a  far-reaching  straggling  fringe 
about  the  great  centres  of  manufacture ;  that  till 
the  agitation  about  the  Catholics  in  '29,  rural  Eng- 
lishmen had  hardly  known  more  of  Catholics  than 
of  the  fossil  mammals ;  and  that  their  notion  of 
Eeform  was  a  confused  combination  of  rick-burners, 
trades-unions,  Nottingham  riots,  and  in  general 
whatever  required  the  calling'  out  of  the  yeomanry. 
It  was  still  easier  to  see  that  for  the  most  part  they 
resisted  the  rotation  of  crops,  and  stood  by  their  fal- 
lows ;  and  the  coachman  would  perhaps  tell  how  in 


io  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

one  parish  an  innovating  farmer,  who  talked  of  Sir 
Humphry  Davy,  had  been  fairly  driven  out  by  popu- 
lar dislike,  as  if  he  had  been  a  confounded  Badical ; 
and  how  the  parson  having  one  Sunday  preached 
from  the  words,  "  Break  up  your  fallow-ground," 
the  people  thought  he  had  made  the  text  out  of 
his  own  head,  otherwise  it  would  never  have  come 
"  so  pat "  on  a  matter  of  business ;  but  when  they 
found  it  in  the  Bible  at  home,  some  said  it  was  an 
argument  for  fallows  (else  why  should  the  Bible 
mention  fallows  ?),  but  a  few  of  the  weaker  sort 
were  shaken,  and  thought  it  was  an  argument  that 
fallows  should  be  done  away  with,  else  the  Bible 
would  have  said,  "  Let  your  fallows  lie ; "  and  the 
next  morning  the  parson  had  a  stroke  of  apoplexy, 
which,  as  coincident  with  a  dispute  about  fallows, 
so  set  the  parish  against  the  innovating  farmer  and 
the  rotation  of  crops,  that  he  could  stand  his  ground 
no  longer,  and  transferred  his  lease. 

The  coachman  was  an  excellent  travelling  com- 
panion and  commentator  on  the  landscape :  he 
could  tell  the  names  of  sites  and  persons,  and 
explain  the  meaning  of  groups,  as  well  as  the  shade 
of  Virgil  in  a  more  memorable  journey;  he  had  as 
many  stories  about  parishes,  and  the  men  and 
women  in  them,  as  the  Wanderer  in  the  "Excur- 
sion," only  his  style  was  different.  His  view  of  life 
had  originally  been  genial,  and  such  as  became  a 
man  who  was  well  warmed  within  and  without, 
and  held  a  position  of  easy,  undisputed  authority ; 
but  the  recent  initiation  of  railways  had  embittered 
him:  he  now,  as  in  a  perpetual  vision,  saw  the 
ruined  country  strewn  with  shattered  limbs,  and 
regarded  Mr.  Huskisson's  death  as  a  proof  of  God's 
anger  against   Stephenson.     "  Why,  every  inn   on 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  u 

the  road  would  be  shut  up  ! "  and  at  that  word  the 
coachman  looked  before  him  with  the  blank  gaze 
of  one  who  had  driven  his  coach  to  the  outermost 
edge  of  the  universe,  and  saw  his  leaders  plunging 
into  the  abyss.  Still  he  would  soon  relapse  from 
the  high  prophetic  strain  to  the  familiar  one  of  nar- 
rative. He  knew  whose  the  land  was  wherever  he 
drove ;  what  noblemen  had  half  ruined  themselves 
by  gambling ;  who  made  handsome  returns  of  rent ; 
and  who  was  at  daggers-drawn  with  his  eldest  son. 
He  perhaps  remembered  the  fathers  of  actual 
baronets,  and  knew  stories  of  their  extravagant  or 
stingy  housekeeping ;  whom  they  had  married, 
whom  they  had  horsewhipped,  whether  they  were 
particular  about  preserving  their  game,  and  whether 
they  had  had  much  to  do  with  canal  companies. 
About  any  actual  landed  proprietor  he  could  also 
tell  whether  he  was  a  Eeformer  or  an  Anti-Eeformer. 
That  was  a  distinction  which  had  "  turned  up "  in 
latter  times,  and  along  with  it  the  paradox,  very 
puzzling  to  the  coachman's  mind,  that  there  were 
men  of  old  family  and  large  estate  who  voted  for 
the  Bill.  He  did  not  grapple  with  the  paradox ;  he 
let  it  pass,  with  all  the  discreetness  of  an  experi- 
enced theologian  or  learned  scholiast,  preferring  to 
point  his  whip  at  some  object  which  could  raise  no 
questions. 

No  such  paradox  troubled  our  coachman  when, 
leaving  the  town  of  Treby  Magna  behind  him,  he 
drove  between  the  hedges  for  a  mile  or  so,  crossed 
the  queer  long  bridge  over  the  river  Lapp,  and  then 
put  his  horses  to  a  swift  gallop  up  the  hill  by  the 
low-nestled  village  of  Little  Treby,  till  they  were 
on  the  fine  level  road,  skirted  on  one  side  by  grand 
larches,  oaks,  and  wych  elms,  which   sometimes 


12  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

opened  so  far  as  to  let  the  traveller  see  that  there 
was  a  park  behind  them. 

How  many  times  in  the  year,  as  the  coach  rolled 
past  the  neglected-looking  lodges  which  interrupted 
the  screen  of  trees,  and  showed  the  river  winding 
through  a  finely  timbered  park,  had  the  coachman 
answered  the  same  questions,  or  told  the  same 
things  without  being  questioned  !  That  ?  —  oh, 
that  was  Transome  Court,  a  place  there  had  been 
a  fine  sight  of  lawsuits  about.  Generations  back, 
the  heir  of  the  Transome  name  had  somehow  bar- 
gained away  the  estate,  and  it  fell  to  the  Durfeys,  — 
very  distant  connections,  who  only  called  them- 
selves Transomes  because  they  had  got  the  estate. 
But  the  Durfeys'  claim  had  been  disputed  over  and 
over  again ;  and  the  coachman,  if  he  had  been 
asked,  would  have  said,  though  he  might  have  to 
fall  down  dead  the  next  minute,  that  property 
did  n't  always  get  into  the  right  hands.  However, 
the  lawyers  had  found  their  luck  in  it ;  and  people 
who  inherited  estates  that  were  lawed  about  often 
lived  in  them  as  poorly  as  a  mouse  in  a  hollow 
cheese ;  and,  by  what  he  could  make  out,  that  had 
been  the  way  with  these  present  Durfeys,  or  Tran- 
somes, as  they  called  themselves.  As  for  Mr.  Tran- 
some, he  was  as  poor,  half-witted  a  fellow  as  you  'd 
wish  to  see ;  but  she  was  master,  had  come  of  a 
high  family,  and  had  a  spirit,  —  you  might  see  it 
in  her  eye  and  the  way  she  sat  her  horse.  Forty 
years  ago,  when  she  came  into  this  country,  they 
said  she  was  a  pictur' ;  but  her  family  was  poor, 
and  so  she  took  up  with  a  hatchet-faced  fellow  like 
this  Transome.  And  the  eldest  son  had  been  just 
such  another  as  his  father,  only  worse,  —  a  wild  sort 
of  half-natural,  who  got  into  bad  company.     They 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  13 

said  his  mother  hated  him,  and  wished  him  dead ; 
for  she  'd  got  another  son,  quite  of  a  different  cut, 
who  had  gone  to  foreign  parts  when  he  was  a 
youngster,  and  she  wanted  her  favourite  to  be  heir. 
But  heir  or  no  heir,  Lawyer  Jermyn  had  had  his 
picking  out  of  the  estate.  Not  a  door  in  his  big 
house  but  what  was  the  finest  polished  oak,  all  got 
off  the  Transome  estate.  If  anybody  liked  to  be- 
lieve he  paid  for  it,  they  were  welcome.  However, 
Lawyer  Jermyn  had  sat  on  that  box-seat .  many  and 
many  a  time.  He  had  made  the  wills  of  most 
people  thereabout.  The  coachman  would  not  say 
that  Lawyer  Jermyn  was  not  the  man  he  would 
choose  to  make  his  own  will  some  day.  It  was  not 
so  well  for  a  lawyer  to  be  over-honest,  else  he  might 
not  be  up  to  other  people's  tricks.  And  as  for  the 
Transome  business,  there  had  been  ins  and  outs  in 
time  gone  by,  so  that  you  couldn't  look  into  it 
straight  backward.  At  this,  Mr.  Sampson  (every- 
body in  North  Loamshire  knew  Sampson's  coach) 
would  screw  his  features  into  a  grimace  expressive 
of  entire  neutrality,  and  appear  to  aim  his  whip  at 
a  particular  spot  on  the  horse's  flank.  If  the  pas- 
senger was  curious  for  further  knowledge  concern- 
ing the  Transome  affairs,  Sampson  would  shake  his 
head  and  say  there  had  been  fine  stories  in  his  time ; 
but  he  never  condescended  to  state  what  the  stories 
were.  Some  attributed  this  reticence  to  a  wise  in- 
credulity, others  to  a  want  of  memory,  others  to 
simple  ignorance.  But  at  least  Sampson  was  right 
in  saying  that  there  had  been  fine  stories,  —  mean- 
ing, ironically,  stories  not  altogether  creditable  to 
the  parties  concerned. 

And  such  stories  often  come  to  be  fine  in  a  sense 
that  is   not  ironical.      For    there   is   seldom   any 


14  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

wrong-doing  which  does  not  carry  along  with  it 
some  downfall  of  blindly  climbing  hopes,  some 
hard  entail  of  suffering,  some  quickly  satiated  de- 
sire that  survives,  with  the  life  in  death  of  old 
paralytic  vice,  to  see  itself  cursed  by  its  woful  pro- 
geny,—  some  tragic  mark  of  kinship  in  the  one 
brief  life  to  the  far-stretching  life  that  went  before, 
and  to  the  life  that  is  to  come  after,  such  as  has 
raised  the  pity  and  terror  of  men  ever  since  they 
began  to  discern  between  will  and  destiny.  But 
these  things  are  often  unknown  to  the  world ;  for 
there  is  much  pain  that  is  quite  noiseless  ;  and  vi- 
brations that  make  human  agonies  are  often  a  mere 
whisper  in  the  roar  of  hurrying  existence.  There 
are  glances  of  hatred  that  stab  and  raise  no  cry  of 
murder ;  robberies  that  leave  man  or  woman  forever 
beggared  of  peace  and  joy,  yet  kept  secret  by  the 
sufferer,  —  committed  to  no  sound  except  that  of 
low  moans  in  the  night,  seen  in  no  writing  except 
that  made  on  the  face  by  the  slow  months  of  sup- 
pressed anguish  and  early  morning  tears.  Many 
an  inherited  sorrow  that  has  marred  a  life  has  been 
breathed  into  no  human  ear. 

The  poets  have  told  us  of  a  dolorous  enchanted 
forest  in  the  underworld.  The  thorn-bushes  there, 
and  the  thick-barked  stems  have  human  histories 
hidden  in  them;  the  power  of  unuttered  cries 
dwells  in  the  passionless-seeming  branches,  and 
the  red  warm  blood  is  darkly  feeding  the  quivering 
nerves  of  a  sleepless  memory  that  watches  through 
all  dreams.     These  things  are  a  parable. 


CHAPTER  I. 

He  left  me  when  the  down  upon  his  lip 

Lay  like  the  shadow  of  a  hovering  kiss. 

"Beautiful  mother,  do  not  grieve,"  he  said; 

"I  will  be  great,  and  build  our  fortunes  high, 

And  you  shall  wear  the  longest  train  at  court, 

And  look  so  queenly,  all  the  lords  shall  say, 

'  She  is  a  royal  changeling  :  there  's  some  crown 

Lacks  the  right  head,  since  hers  wears  nought  but  braids/ 

Oh,  he  is  coming  now,  —  but  I  am  gray ; 

And  he  — 

On  the  1st  of  September,  in  the  memorable  year 
1832,  some  one  was  expected  at  Transome  Court. 
As  early  as  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  the  aged 
lodge-keeper  had  opened  the  heavy  gate,  green  as 
the  tree-trunks  were  green  with  Nature's  powdery 
paint,  deposited  year  after  year.  Already  in  the 
village  of  Little  Treby,  which  lay  on  the  side  of  a 
steep  hill  not  far  off  the  lodge  gates,  the  elder  ma- 
trons sat  in  their  best  gowns  at  the  few  cottage 
doors  bordering  the  road,  that  they  might  be  ready 
to  get  up  and  make  their  courtesy  when  a  travel- 
ling carriage  should  come  in  sight ;  and  beyond  the 
village  several  small  boys  were  stationed  on  the 
lookout,  intending  to  run  a  race  to  the  barn-like  old 
church,  where  the  sexton  waited  in  the  belfry  ready 
to  set  the  one  bell  in  joyful  agitation  just  at  the 
right  moment. 

The  old   lodge-keeper  had  opened  the  gate  and 
left  it  in  the  charge  of  his  lame  wife,  because  he  was 


1 6  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

wanted  at  the  Court  to  sweep  away  the  leaves,  and 
perhaps  to  help  in  the  stables.  For  though  Tran- 
some  Court  was  a  large  mansion,  built  in  the  fash- 
ion of  Queen  Anne's  time,  with  a  park  and  grounds 
as  fine  as  any  to  be  seen  in  Loamshire,  there  were 
very  few  servants  about  it.  Especially,  it  seemed, 
there  must  be  a  lack  of  gardeners ;  for  except  on 
the  terrace  surrounded  with  a  stone  parapet  in 
front  of  the  house,  where  there  was  a  parterre  kept 
with  some  neatness,  grass  had  spread  itself  over 
the  gravel  walks,  and  over  all  the  low  mounds  once 
carefully  cut  as  black  beds  for  the  shrubs  and 
larger  plants.  Many  of  the  windows  had  the 
shutters  closed,  and  under  the  grand  Scotch  fir  that 
stooped  towards  one  corner,  the  brown  fir-needles  of 
many  years  lay  in  a  small  stone  balcony  in  front  of 
two  such  darkened  windows.  All  round,  both  near 
and  far,  there  were  grand  trees,  motionless  in  the 
still  sunshine,  and,  like  all  large  motionless  things, 
seeming  to  add  to  the  stillness.  Here  and  there  a 
leaf  fluttered  down ;  petals  fell  in  a  silent  shower ; 
a  heavy  moth  floated  by,  and  when  it  settled, 
seemed  to  fall  wearily ;  the  tiny  birds  alighted  on 
the  walks,  and  hopped  about  in  perfect  tranquillity  ; 
even  a  stray  rabbit  sat  nibbling  a  leaf  that  was  to 
its  liking,  in  the  middle  of  a  grassy  space,  with  an 
air  that  seemed  quite  impudent  in  so  timid  a  crea- 
ture. No  sound  was  to  be  heard  louder  than  a  sleepy 
hum,  and  the  soft  monotony  of  running  water  hur- 
rying on  to  the  river  that  divided  the  park.  Stand- 
ing on  the  south  or  east  side  of  the  house,  you 
would  never  have  guessed  that  an  arrival  was 
expected. 

But  on  the  west  side,  where  the  carriage  entrance 
was,  the  gates  under  the  stone  archway  were  thrown 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  i7 

open ;  and  so  was  the  double  door  of  the  entrance- 
hall,  letting  in  the  warm  light  on  the  scagliola 
pillars,  the  marble  statues,  and  the  broad  stone 
staircase,  with  its  matting  worn  into  large  holes. 
And,  stronger  sign  of  expectation  than  all,  from  one 
of  the  doors  which  surrounded  the  entrance-hall, 
there  came  forth  from  time  to  time  a  lady,  who 
walked  lightly  over  the  polished  stone  floor,  and 
stood  on  the  door-steps  and  watched  and  listened. 
She  walked  lightly,  for  her  figure  was  slim  and 
finely  formed,  though  she  was  between  fifty  and 
sixty.  She  was  a  tall,  proud-looking  woman,  with 
abundant  gray  hair,  dark  eyes  and  eyebrows,  and  a 
somewhat  eagle-like  yet  not  unfeminine  face.  Her 
tight-fitting  black  dress  was  much  worn  ;  the  fine 
lace  of  her  cuffs  and  collar,  and  of  the  small  veil 
which  fell  backwards  over  her  high  comb,  was 
visibly  mended;  but  rare  jewels  flashed  on  her 
hands,  which  lay  on  her  folded  black-clad  arms  like 
finely  cut  onyx  cameos. 

Many  times  Mrs.  Transome  went  to  the  door-steps, 
watching  and  listening  in  vain.  Each  time  she  re- 
turned to  the  same  room ;  it  was  a  moderate-sized 
comfortable  room,  with  low  ebony  bookshelves  round 
it,  and  it  formed  an  anteroom  to  a  large  library,  of 
which  a  glimpse  could  be  seen  through  an  open 
doorway,  partly  obstructed  by  a  heavy  tapestry  cur- 
tain drawn  on  one  side.  There  was  a  great  deal  of 
tarnished  gilding  and  dinginess  on  the  walls  and 
furniture  of  this  smaller  room,  but  the  pictures 
above  the  bookcases  were  all  of  a  cheerful  kind,  — 
portraits  in  pastel  of  pearly-skinned  ladies  with 
hair-powder,  blue  ribbons,  and  low  bodices ;  a  splen- 
did portrait  in  oils  of  a  Transome  in  the  gorgeous 
dress  of  the  Restoration  ;  another  of  a  Transome  in 


18  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

his  boyhood,  with  his  hand  on  the  neck  of  a  small 
pony ;  and  a  large  Flemish  battle-piece,  where  war 
seemed  only  a  picturesque  blue-and-red  accident  in 
a  vast  sunny  expanse  of  plain  and  sky.  Probably 
such  cheerful  pictures  had  been  chosen  because  this 
was  Mrs.  Transome's  usual  sitting-room ;  it  was 
certainly  for  this  reason  that  near  the  chair  in 
which  she  seated  herself  each  time  she  re-entered, 
there  hung  a  picture  of  a  youthful  face  which  bore 
a  strong  resemblance  to  her  own,  —  a  beardless  but 
masculine  face,  with  rich  brown  hair  hanging  low 
on  the  forehead,  and  undulating  beside  each  cheek 
down  to  the  loose  white  cravat.  Near  this  same 
chair  were  her  writing-table,  with  vellum-covered 
account  books  on  it,  the  cabinet  in  which  she  kept 
her  neatly  arranged  drugs,  her  basket  for  her  em- 
broidery, a  folio  volume  of  architectural  engravings 
from  which  she  took  her  embroidery  patterns,  a 
number  of  the  "  North  Loamshire  Herald,"  and  the 
cushion  for  her  fat  Blenheim,  which  was  too  old 
and  sleepy  to  notice  its  mistress's  restlessness.  For 
just  now  Mrs.  Transome  could  not  abridge  the 
sunny  tedium  of  the  day  by  the  feeble  interest  of 
her  usual  indoor  occupations.  Her  consciousness 
was  absorbed  by  memories  and  prospects ;  and  except 
when  she  walked  to  the  entrance-door  to  look  out, 
she  sat  motionless  with  folded  arms,  involuntarily 
from  time  to  time  turning  towards  the  portrait 
close  by  her,  and  as  often,  when  its  young  brown 
eyes  met  hers,  turning  away  again  with  self -checking 
resolution. 

At  last,  prompted  by  some  sudden  thought  or  by 
some  sound,  she  rose  and  went  hastily  beyond  the 
tapestry  curtain  into  the  library.  She  paused  near 
the  door  without   speaking;  apparently  she   only 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  19 

wished  to  see  that  no  harm  was  being  done.  A 
man  nearer  seventy  than  sixty  was  in  the  act  of 
ranging  on  a  large  library-table  a  series  of  shallow 
drawers,  some  of  them  containing  dried  insects, 
others  mineralogical  specimens.  His  pale  mild  eyes, 
receding  lower  jaw,  and  slight  frame  could  never 
have  expressed  much  vigour,  either  bodily  or  mental ; 
but  he  had  now  the  unevenness  of  gait  and  feeble- 
ness of  gesture  which  tell  of  a  past  paralytic  seizure. 
His  threadbare  clothes  were  thoroughly  brushed  ; 
his  soft  white  hair  was  carefully  parted  and  ar- 
ranged :  he  was  not  a  neglected-looking  old  man  ; 
and  at  his  side  a  fine  black  retriever,  also  old,  sat  on 
its  haunches,  and  watched  him  as  he  went  to  and 
fro.  But  when  Mrs.  Transome  appeared  within  the 
doorway,  her  husband  paused  in  his  work  and 
shrank  like  a  timid  animal  looked  at  in  a  cage  where 
flight  is  impossible.  He  was  conscious  of  a  trouble- 
some intention,  for  which  he  had  been  rebuked  be- 
fore, —  that  of  disturbing  all  his  specimens  with  a 
view  to  a  new  arrangement. 

After  an  interval,  in  which  his  wife  stood  per- 
fectly still,  observing  him,  he  began  to  put  back  the 
drawers  in  their  places  in  the  row  of  cabinets  which 
extended  under  the  bookshelves  at  one  end  of  the 
library.  When  they  were  all  put  back  and  closed, 
Mrs.  Transome  turned  away,  and  the  frightened  old 
man  seated  himself  with  Nimrod  the  retriever  on  an 
ottoman.  Peeping  at  him  again,  a  few  minutes 
after,  she  saw  that  he  had  his  arm  round  Nimrod's 
neck,  and  was  uttering  his  thoughts  to  the  dog  in  a 
loud  whisper,  as  little  children  do  to  any  object  near 
them  when  they  believe  themselves  unwatched. 

At  last  the  sound  of  the  church-bell  reached  Mrs. 
Transome's  ear,  and  she  knew  that  before  long  the 


2o  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

sound  of  wheels  must  be  within  hearing ;  but  she 
did  not  at  once  start  up  and  walk  to  the  entrance- 
door.  She  sat  still,  quivering  and  listening  ;  her  lips 
became  pale,  her  hands  were  cold  and  trembling. 
"Was  her  son  really  coming  ?  She  was  far  beyond 
fifty ;  and  since  her  early  gladness  in  this  best-loved 
boy,  the  harvests  of  her  life  had  been  scanty.  Could 
it  be  that  now  —  when  her  hair  was  gray,  when 
sight  had  become  one  of  the  day's  fatigues,  when  her 
young  accomplishments  seemed  almost  ludicrous, 
like  the  tone  of  her  first  harpsichord  and  the  words 
of  the  songs  long  browned  with  age  —  she  was  going 
to  reap  an  assured  joy  ?  —  to  feel  that  the  doubtful 
deeds  of  her  life  were  justified  by  the  result,  since  a 
kind  Providence  had  sanctioned  them  ?  —  to  be  no 
longer  tacitly  pitied  by  her  neighbours  for  her  lack 
of  money,  her  imbecile  husband,  her  graceless  eldest- 
born,  and  the  loneliness  of  her  life  ;  but  to  have  at 
her  side  a  rich,  clever,  possibly  a  tender  son  ?  Yes ; 
but  there  were  the  fifteen  years  of  separation,  and  all 
that  had  happened  in  that  long  time  to  throw  her 
into  the  background  in  her  son's  memory  and  affec- 
tion. And  yet  —  did  not  men  sometimes  become 
more  filial  in  their  feeling  when  experience  had 
mellowed  them,  and  they  had  themselves  become 
fathers  ?  Still,  if  Mrs.  Transome  had  expected  only 
her  son,  she  would  have  trembled  less  :  she  expected 
a  little  grandson  also  ;  and  there  were  reasons  why 
she  had  not  been  enraptured  when  her  son  had 
written  to  her  only  when  he  was  on  the  eve  of  re- 
turning that  he  already  had  an  heir  born  to  him. 

But  the  facts  must  be  accepted  as  they  stood ; 
and,  after  all,  the  chief  thing  was  to  have  her  son 
back  again.  Such  pride,  such  affection,  such  hopes 
as  she  cherished  in  this  fifty-sixth  year  of  her  life 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  21 

must  find  their  gratification  in  him  —  or  nowhere. 
Once  more  she  glanced  at  the  portrait.  The  young 
brown  eyes  seemed  to  dwell  on  her  pleasantly  ;  but 
turning  from  it  with  a  sort  of  impatience,  and  saying 
aloud, "  Of  course  he  will  be  altered !"  she  rose  almost 
with  difficulty,  and  walked  more  slowly  than  before 
across  the  hall  to  the  entrance-door. 

Already  the  sound  of  wheels  was  loud  upon  the 
gravel.  The  momentary  surprise  of  seeing  that  it  was 
only  a  post-chaise,  without  a  servant  or  much  lug- 
gage, that  was  passing  under  the  stone  archway  and 
then  wheeling  round  against  the  flight  of  stone 
steps,  was  at  once  merged  in  the  sense  that  there 
was  a  dark  face  under  a  red  travelling-cap  looking 
at  her  from  the  window.  She  saw  nothing  else ; 
she  was  not  even  conscious  that  the  small  group 
of  her  own  servants  had  mustered,  or  that  old 
Hickes  the  butler  had  come  forward  to  open  the 
chaise-door.  She  heard  herself  called  "  Mother !  " 
and  felt  a  light  kiss  on  each  cheek ;  but  stronger 
than  all  that  sensation  was  the  consciousness  which 
no  previous  thought  could  prepare  her  for,  that  this 
son  who  had  come  back  to  her  was  a  stranger. 
Three  minutes  before,  she  had  fancied  that  in  spite 
of  all  changes  wrought  by  fifteen  years  of  separation 
she  should  clasp  her  son  again  as  she  had  done  at 
their  parting  ;  but  in  the  moment  when  their  eyes 
met,  the  sense  of  strangeness  came  upon  her  like 
a  terror.  It  was  not  hard  to  understand  that  she 
was  agitated ;  and  the  son  led  her  across  the  hall  to 
the  sitting-room,  closing  the  door  behind  them. 
Then  he  turned  towards  her  and  said,  smiling, — 
"  You  would  not  have  known  me,  eh,  mother  ? " 
It  was  perhaps  the  truth.  If  she  had  seen  him 
in  a  crowd,  she  might  have  looked  at  him  without 


n  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

recognition, — not,  however,  without  startled  wonder; 
for  though  the  likeness  to  herself  was  no  longer 
striking,  the  years  had  overlaid  it  with  another 
likeness  which  would  have  arrested  her.  Before 
she  answered  him,  his  eyes,  with  a  keen  restless- 
ness, as  unlike  as  possible  to  the  lingering  gaze  of 
the  portrait,  had  travelled  quickly  over  the  room, 
alighting  on  her  again  as  she  said,  — 

"  Everything  is  changed,  Harold.  I  am  an  old 
woman,  you  see." 

"  But  straighter  and  more  upright  than  some  of 
the  young  ones  ! "  said  Harold ;  inwardly,  however, 
feeling  that  age  had  made  his  mother's  face  very 
anxious  and  eager.  "The  old  women  at  Smyrna 
are  like  sacks.  You  've  not  got  clumsy  and  shape- 
less. How  is  it  I  have  the  trick  of  getting  fat  ? " 
(Here  Harold  lifted  his  arm  and  spread  out  his 
plump  hand.)  "  I  remember  my  father  was  as 
thin  as  a  herring.  How  is  my  father?  Where 
is  he?" 

Mrs.  Transome  just  pointed  to  the  curtain  door- 
way, and  let  her  son  pass  through  it  alone.  She 
was  not  given  to  tears ;  but  now  under  the  pressure 
of  emotion  that  could  find  no  other  vent,  they  burst 
forth.  She  took  care  that  they  should  be  silent 
tears,  and  before  Harold  came  out  oi  the  library 
again,  they  were  dried.  Mrs.  Transome  had  not  the 
feminine  tendency  to  seek  influence  through  pathos; 
she  had  been  used  to  rule  in  virtue  of  acknowledged 
superiority.  The  consciousness  that  she  had  to 
make  her  son's  acquaintance,  and  that  her  knowl- 
edge of  the  youth  of  nineteen  might  help  her  little 
in  interpreting  the  man  of  thirty-four,  had  fallen 
like  lead  on  her  soul ;  but  in  this  new  acquaintance 
of  theirs  she  cared  especially  that  her  son,  who  had 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  23 

seen  a  strange  world,  should  feel  that  he  was  come 
home  to  a  mother  who  was  to  be  consulted  on  all 
things,  and  who  could  supply  his  lack  of  the  local 
experience  necessary  to  an  English  landholder.  Her 
part  in  life  had  been  that  of  the  clever  sinner,  and 
she  was  equipped  with  the  views,  the  reasons,  and 
the  habits  which  belonged  to  that  character ;  life 
would  have  little  meaning  for  her  if  she  were  to  be 
gently  thrust  aside  as  a  harmless  elderly  woman. 
And  besides,  there  were  secrets  which  her  son  must 
never  know.  So,  by  the  time  Harold  came  from 
the  library  again,  the  traces  of  tears  were  not  dis- 
cernible, except  to  a  very  careful  observer.  And  he 
did  not  observe  his  mother  carefully ;  his  eyes  only 
glanced  at  her  on  their  way  to  the  "  North  Loam- 
shire  Herald,"  lying  on  the  table  near  her,  which 
he  took  up  with  his  left  hand,  as  he  said,  — 

"  Gad  !  what  a  wreck  poor  father  is !  Paralysis, 
eh  ?  Terribly  shrunk  and  shaken,  —  crawls  about 
among  his  books  and  beetles  as  usual,  though. 
Well,  it 's  a  slow  and  easy  death.  But  he  's  not 
much  over  sixty-five,  is  he  ? " 

"  Sixty-seven,  counting  by  birthdays ;  but  your 
father  was  born  old,  I  think,"  said  Mrs.  Transome, 
a  little  flushed  with  the  determination  not  to  show 
any  unasked-for  feeling. 

Her  son  did  not  notice  her.  All  the  time  he  had 
been  speaking  his  eyes  had  been  running  down  the 
columns  of  the  newspaper. 

"But  your  little  boy,  Harold,  —  where  is  he? 
How  is  it  he  has  not  come  with  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  left  him  behind,  in  town,"  said  Harold, 
still  looking  at  the  paper.  "  My  man  Dominic  will 
bring  him,  with  the  rest  of  the  luggage.  Ah,  I  see 
it  is  young  Debarry,  and  not  my  old  friend.  Sir 


24  FELIX  HOLT,  THE   RADICAL. 

Maximus,  who  is  offering  himself  as  candidate  for 
North  Loamshire." 

"  Yes.  You  did  not  answer  me  when  I  wrote  to 
you  to  London  about  your  standing.  There  is  no 
other  Tory  candidate  spoken  of,  and  you  would  have 
all  the  Debarry  interest." 

"  I  hardly  think  that,"  said  Harold,  significantly. 

"  Why  ?  Jermyn  says  a  Tory  candidate  can 
never  be  got  in  without  it." 

"  But  I  shall  not  be  a  Tory  candidate." 

Mrs.  Transome  felt  something  like  an  electric 
shock. 

"  What  then  ? "  she  said,  almost  sharply.  "  You 
will  not  call  yourself  a  Whig  ?  " 

"  God  forbid  !     I'm  a  Radical." 

Mrs.  Transome's  limbs  tottered ;  she  sank  into 
a  chair.  Here  was  a  distinct  confirmation  of  the 
vague  but  strong  feeling  that  her  son  was  a  stranger 
to  her.  Here  was  a  revelation  to  which  it  seemed 
almost  as  impossible  to  adjust  her  hopes  and  notions 
of  a  dignified  life  as  if  her  son  had  said  that  he  had 
been  converted  to  Mahometanism  at  Smyrna,  and 
had  four  wives,  instead  of  one  son,  shortly  to  arrive 
under  the  care  of  Dominic.  For  the  moment  she 
had'  a  sickening  feeling  that  it  was  all  of  no  use 
that  the  long-delayed  good  fortune  had  come  at  last, 
—  all  of  no  use,  though  the  unloved  Durfey  was  dead 
and  buried,  and  though  Harold  had  come  home  with 
plenty  of  money.  There  were  rich  Radicals,  she 
was  aware,  as  there  were  rich  Jews  and  Dissenters, 
but  she  had  never  thought  of  them  as  county  peo- 
ple. Sir  Francis  Burdett  had  been  generally  re- 
garded as  a  madman.  It  was  better  to  ask  no  ques- 
tions, but  silently  to  prepare  herself  for  anything 
else  there  might  be  to  come. 


FELIX  IIOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  25 

"  Will  you  go  to  your  rooms,  Harold,  and  see 
if  there  is  anything  you  would  like  to  have 
altered?" 

"  Yes,  let  us  go,"  said  Harold,  throwing  down  the 
newspaper,  in  which  he  had  been  rapidly  reading 
almost  every  advertisement  while  his  mother  had 
been  going  through  her  sharp  inward  struggle. 
"  Uncle  Lingon  is  on  the  bench  still,  I  see,"  he  went 
on,  as  he  followed  her  across  the  hall ;  "  is  he  at 
home,  —  will  he  be  here  this  evening  ? " 

"  He  says  you  must  go  to  the  Kectory  when  you 
want  to  see  him.  You  must  remember  you  have 
come  back  to  a  family  who  have  old-fashioned  no- 
tions. Your  uncle  thought  I  ought  to  have  you  to 
myself  in  the  first  hour  or  two.  He  remembered 
that  I  had  not  seen  my  son  for  fifteen  years." 

"  Ah,  by  Jove  !  fifteen  years,  —  so  it  is  ! "  said 
Harold,  taking  his  mother's  hand  and  drawing  it  un- 
der his  arm  ;  for  he  had  perceived  that  her  words 
were  charged  with  an  intention.  "  And  you  are  as 
straight  as  an  arrow  still ;  you  will  carry  the  shawls 
I  have  brought  you  as  well  as  ever." 

They  walked  up  the  broad  stone  steps  together  in 
silence.  Under  the  shock  of  discovering  her  son's 
Eadicalism,  Mrs.  Transome  had  no  impulse  to  say 
one  thing  rather  than  another ;  as  in  a  man  who  had 
just  been  branded  on  the  forehead  all  wonted  mo- 
tives would  be  uprooted.  Harold,  on  his  side,  had 
no  wish  opposed  to  filial  kindness,  but  his  busy 
thoughts  were  imperiously  determined  by  habits 
which  had  no  reference  to  any  woman's  feeling; 
and  even  if  he  could  have  conceived  what  his 
mother's  feeling  was,  his  mind,  after  that  momen- 
tary arrest,  would  have  darted  forward  on  its  usual 
course. 


26  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  I  have  given  you  the  south  rooms,  Harold,"  said 
Mrs.  Transome,  as  they  passed  along  a  corridor  lit 
from  above,  and  lined  with  old  family  pictures.  "  I 
thought  they  would  suit  you  best,  as  they  all  open 
into  each  other,  and  this  middle  one  will  make  a 
pleasant  sitting-room  for  you." 

"  Gad  !  the  furniture  is  in  a  bad  state,"  said  Har- 
old, glancing  round  at  the  middle  room,  which  they 
had  just  entered ;  "  the  moths  seem  to  have  got 
into  the  carpets  and  hangings." 

"I  had  no  choice  except  moths  or  tenants  who 
would  pay  rent,"  said  Mrs.  Transome.  "We  have 
been  too  poor  to  keep  servants  for  uninhabited 
rooms." 

"  What !  you  Ve  been  rather  pinched,  eh  ?  " 

"  You  find  us  living  as  we  have  been  living  these 
twelve  years." 

"  Ah,  you  've  had  Durfey's  debts  as  well  as  the 
lawsuits,  —  confound  them !  It  will  make  a  hole  in 
sixty  thousand  pounds  to  pay  off  the  mortgages. 
However,  he 's  gone  now,  poor  fellow ;  and  I  suppose 
I  should  have  spent  more  in  buying  an  English  es- 
tate some  time  or  other.  I  always  meant  to  be  an 
Englishman,  and  thrash  a  lord  or  two  who  thrashed 
me  at  Eton." 

"I  hardly  thought  you  could  have  meant  that, 
Harold,  when  I  found  you  had  married  a  foreign 
wife." 

"  Would  you  have  had  me  wait  for  a  consumptive 
lackadaisical  Englishwoman,  who  would  have  hung 
all  her  relations  round  my  neck  ?  I  hate  English 
wives  ;  they  want  to  give  their  opinion  about  every- 
thing. They  interfere  with  a  man's  life.  I  shall 
not  marry  again." 

Mrs.  Transome  bit  her  lip,  and  turned  away  to 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  27 

draw  up  a  blind.  She  would  not  reply  to  words 
which  showed  how  completely  any  conception  of 
herself  and  her  feelings  was  excluded  from  her 
son's  inward  world. 

As  she  turned  round  again,  she  said,  "  I  suppose 
you  have  been  used  to  great  luxury ;  these  rooms 
look  miserable  to  you,  but  you  can  soon  make  any 
alteration  you  like." 

"Oh,  I  must  have  a  private  sitting-room  fitted 
up  for  myself  downstairs.  And  the  rest  are  bed- 
rooms, I  suppose,"  he  went  on,  opening  a  side-door. 
"  Ah,  I  can  sleep  here  a  night  or  two.  But  there 's 
a  bedroom  downstairs,  with  an  anteroom,  I  re- 
member, that  would  do  for  my  man  Dominic  and 
the  little  boy.     I  should  like  to  have  that." 

"  Your  father  has  slept  there  for  years.  He  will 
be  like  a  distracted  insect,  and  never  know  where 
to  go,  if  you  alter  the  track  he  has  to  walk  in." 

"  That 's  a  pity.     I  hate  going  upstairs." 

"  There  is  the  steward's  room ;  it  is  not  used,  and 
might  be  turned  into  a  bedroom.  I  can't  offer  you 
my  room,  for  I  sleep  upstairs."  (Mrs.  Transome's 
tongue  could  be  a  whip  upon  occasion,  but  the  lash 
had  not  fallen  on  a  sensitive  spot.) 

"  No ;  I  'm  determined  not  to  sleep  upstairs. 
We  '11  see  about  the  steward's  room  to-morrow,  and 
I  dare  say  I  shall  find  a  closet  of  some  sort  for 
Dominic.  It's  a  nuisance  he  had  to  stay  behind, 
for  I  shall  have  nobody  to  cook  for  me.  Ah, 
there  's  the  old  river  I  used  to  fish  in.  I  often 
thought,  when  I  was  at  Smyrna,  that  I  would  buy 
a  park  with  a  river  through  it  as  much  like  the 
Lapp  as  possible.  Gad,  what  fine  oaks  those  are 
opposite  !  Some  of  them  must  come  down, 
though." 


28  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  I  've  held  every  tree  sacred  on  the  demesne, 
as  I  told  you,  Harold.  I  trusted  to  your  getting 
the  estate  some  time,  and  releasing  it ;  and  I  deter- 
mined to  keep  it  worth  releasing.  A  park  without 
fine  timber  is  no  better  than  a  beauty  without  teeth 
and  hair." 

"  Bravo,  mother  !  "  said  Harold,  putting  his  hand 
on  her  shoulder.  "  Ah,  you  've  had  to  worry  your- 
self about  things  that  don't  properly  belong  to  a 
woman,  —  my  father  being  weakly.  We  '11  set  all 
that  right.  You  shall  have  nothing  to  do  now  but 
to  be  grandmamma  on  satin  cushions." 

"  You  must  excuse  me  from  the  satin  cushions. 
That  is  a  part  of  the  old  woman's  duty  I  am  not 
prepared  for.  I  am  used  to  be  chief  bailiff,  and  to 
sit  in  the  saddle  two  or  three  hours  every  day. 
There  are  two  farms  on  our  hands  besides  the 
Home  Farm." 

"  Phew-ew !  Jermyn  manages  the  estate  badly, 
then.  That  will  not  last  under  my  reign,"  said 
Harold,  turning  on  his  heel  and  feeling  in  his 
pockets  for  the  keys  of  his  portmanteaus,  which 
had  been  brought  up. 

"  Perhaps  when  you  've  been  in  England  a  little 
longer,"  said  Mrs.  Transome,  colouring  as  if  she  had 
been  a  girl,  "  you  will  understand  better  the  diffi- 
culty there  is  in  letting  farms  in  these  times." 

"  I  understand  the  difficulty  perfectly,  mother. 
To  let  farms,  a  man  must  have  the  sense  to  see 
what  will  make  them  inviting  to  farmers,  and  to 
get  sense  supplied  on  demand  is  just  the  most 
difficult  transaction  I  know  of.  I  suppose  if  I  ring 
there  's  some  fellow  who  can  act  as  valet  and  learn 
to  attend  to  my  hookah  ?  " 

"  There  is  Hickes  the  butler,  and  there  is  Jabez 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  29 

the  footman ;  those  are  all  the  men  in  the  house. 
They  were  here  when  you  left." 

"  Oh,  I  remember  Jabez,  —  he  was  a  dolt.  I  '11 
have  old  Hickes.  He  was  a  neat  little  machine  of 
a  butler ;  his  words  used  to  come  like  the  clicks 
of  an  engine.  He  must  be  an  old  machine  now, 
though." 

"  You  seem  to  remember  some  things  about  home 
wonderfully  well,  Harold." 

"  Never  forget  places  and  people,  —  how  they  look 
and  what  can  be  done  with  them.  All  the  country 
round  here  lies  like  a  map  in  my  brain.  A  deuced 
pretty  country  too;  but  the  people  were  a  stupid 
set  of  old  Whigs  and  Tories.  I  suppose  they  are 
much  as  they  were." 

"  I  am,  at  least,  Harold.  You  are  the  first  of  your 
family  that  ever  talked  of  being  a  Eadical.  I  did 
not  think  I  was  taking  care  of  our  old  oaks  for  that. 
I  always  thought  Radicals'  houses  stood  staring 
above  poor  sticks  of  young  trees  and  iron  hurdles." 

"  Yes ;  but  the  Radical  sticks  are  growing,  mother, 
and  half  the  Tory  oaks  are  rotting,"  said  Harold, 
with  gay  carelessness.  "  You  've  arranged  for  Jer- 
myn  to  be  early  to-morrow?" 

"He  will  be  here  to  breakfast  at  nine.  But  I 
leave  you  to  Hickes  now ;  we  dine  in  an  hour." 

Mrs.  Transome  went  away,  and  shut  herself  in  her 
own  dressing-room.  It  had  come  to  pass  now, — 
this  meeting  with  the  son  who  had  been  the  object 
of  so  much  longing ;  whom  she  had  longed  for  be- 
fore he  was  born,  for  whom  she  had  sinned,  from 
whom  she  had  wrenched  herself  with  pain  at  their 
parting,  and  whose  coming  again  had  been  the  one 
great  hope  of  her  years.  The  moment  was  gone 
by;  there  had  been  no  ecstasy,  no  gladness  even. 


30  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Hardly  half  an  hour  had  passed,  and  few  words  had 
been  spoken,  yet  with  that  quickness  in  weaving 
new  futures  which  belongs  to  women  whose  actions 
have  kept  them  in  habitual  fear  of  consequences, 
Mrs.  Transome  thought  she  saw  with  all  the  clear- 
ness of  demonstration  that  her  son's  return  had 
not  been  a  good  for  her  in  the  sense  of  making  her 
any  happier. 

She  stood  before  a  tall  mirror,  going  close  to  it 
and  looking  at  her  face  with  hard  scrutiny,  as  if  it 
were  unrelated  to  herself.  No  elderly  face  can  be 
handsome,  looked  at  in  that  way ;  every  little  de- 
tail is  startlingly  prominent,  and  the  effect  of  the 
whole  is  lost.  She  saw  the  dried-up  complexion, 
and  the  deep  lines  of  bitter  discontent  about  the 
mouth. 

"I  am  a  hag,"  she  said  to  herself  (she  was  ac- 
customed to  give  her  thoughts  a  very  sharp  out- 
line), "  an  ugly  old  woman  who  happens  to  be  his 
mother.  That  is  what  he  sees  in  me,  as  I  see  a 
stranger  in  him.  I  shall  count  for  nothing.  I  was 
foolish  to  expect  anything  else." 

She  turned  away  from  the  mirror,  and  walked  up 
and  down  her  room. 

"  What  a  likeness  ! "  she  said,  in  a  loud  whisper ; 
"  yet,  perhaps,  no  one  will  see  it  besides  me." 

She  threw  herself  into  a  chair,  and  sat  with  a 
fixed  look,  seeing  nothing  that  was  actually  present, 
but  inwardly  seeing  with  painful  vividness  what 
had  been  present  with  her  a  little  more  than  thirty 
years  ago,  —  the  little  round-limbed  creature  that 
had  been  leaning  against  her  knees,  and  stamping 
tiny  feet,  and  looking  up  at  her  with  gurgling 
laughter.  She  had  thought  that  the  possession  of 
this  child  would  give  unity  to  her  life,  and  make 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  31 

some  gladness  through  the  changing  years  that 
would  grow  as  fruit  out  of  these  early  maternal 
caresses.  But  nothing  had  come  just  as  she  had 
wished.  The  mother's  early  raptures  had  lasted 
but  a  short  time ;  and  even  while  they  lasted  there 
had  grown  up  in  the  midst  of  them  a  hungry  desire, 
like  a  black  poisonous  plant  feeding  in  the  sunlight, 
—  the  desire  that  her  first,  rickety,  ugly,  imbecile 
child  should  die,  and  leave  room  for  her  darling,  of 
whom  she  could  be  proud.  Such  desires  make  life 
a  hideous  lottery,  where  every  day  may  turn  up  a 
blank ;  where  men  and  women  who  have  the  softest 
beds  and  the  most  delicate  eating,  who  have  a  very 
large  share  of  that  sky  and  earth  which  some  are 
born  to  have  no  more  of  than  the  fraction  to  be  got 
in  a  crowded  entry,  yet  grow  haggard,  fevered,  and 
restless,  like  those  who  watch  in  other  lotteries. 
Day  after  day,  year  after  year,  had  yielded  blanks ; 
new  cares  had  come,  bringing  other  desires  for  re- 
sults quite  beyond  her  grasp,  which  must  also  be 
watched  for  in  the  lottery  ;  and  all  the  while  the 
round-limbed  pet  had  been  growing  into  a  strong 
youth,  who  liked  many  things  better  than  his 
mother's  caresses,  and  who  had  a  much  keener 
consciousness  of  his  independent  existence  than  of 
his  relation  to  her ;  the  lizard's  egg  —  that  white, 
rounded,  passive  prettiness  —  had  become  a  brown, 
darting,  determined  lizard.  The  mother's  love  is  at 
first  an  absorbing  delight,  blunting  all  other  sensi- 
bilities ;  it  is  an  expansion  of  the  animal  existence  ; 
it  enlarges  the  imagined  range  for  self  to  move  in : 
but  in  after  years  it  can  only  continue  to  be  joy  on 
the  same  terms  as  other  long-lived  love,  —  that  is, 
by  much  suppression  of  self,  and  power  of  living  in 
the  experience   of  another.      Mrs.    Transome  had 


32  EELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

darkly  felt  the  pressure  of  that  unchangeable  fact. 
Yet  she  had  clung  to  the  belief  that  somehow  the 
possession  of  this  son  was  the  best  thing  she  lived 
for ;  to  believe  otherwise  would  have  made  her 
memory  too  ghastly  a  companion.  Some  time  or 
other,  by  some  means,  the  estate  she  was  struggling 
to  save  from  the  grasp  of  the  law  would  be  Harold's. 
Somehow  the  hated  Durfey,  the  imbecile  eldest,  who 
seemed  to  have  become  tenacious  of  a  despicable 
squandering  life,  would  be  got  rid  of;  vice  might 
kill  him.  Meanwhile  the  estate  was  burthened; 
there  was  no  good  prospect  for  any  heir.  Harold 
must  go  and  make  a  career  for  himself;  and  this 
was  what  he  was  bent  on,  with  a  precocious  clear- 
ness of  perception  as  to  the  conditions  on  which  he 
could  hope  for  any  advantages  in  life.  Like  most 
energetic  natures,  he  had  a  strong  faith  in  his  luck ; 
he  had  been  gay  at  their  parting,  and  had  promised 
to  make  his  fortune ;  and  in  spite  of  past  disappoint- 
ments, Harold's  possible  fortune  still  made  some 
ground  for  his  mother  to  plant  her  hopes  in.  His 
luck  had  not  failed  him;  yet  nothing  had  turned 
out  according  to  her  expectations.  Her  life  had  been 
like  a  spoiled,  shabby  pleasure-day,  in  which  the 
music  and  the  processions  are  all  missed,  and  noth- 
ing is  left  at  evening  but  the  weariness  of  striving 
after  what  has  been  failed  of.  Harold  had  gone 
with  the  Embassy  to  Constantinople,  under  the 
patronage  of  a  high  relative,  his  mother's  cousin ; 
he  was  to  be  a  diplomatist,  and  work  his  way  up- 
ward in  public  life.  But  his  luck  had  taken  an- 
other shape :  he  had  saved  the  life  of  an  Armenian 
banker,  who  in  gratitude  had  offered  him  a  prospect 
which  his  practical  mind  had  preferred  to  the 
problematic  promises  of   diplomacy  and  high-born 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.       33 

cousinship.  Harold  had  become  a  merchant  and 
banker  at  Smyrna ;  had  let  the  years  pass  without 
caring  to  find  the  possibility  of  visiting  his  early 
home,  and  had  shown  no  eagerness  to  make  his  life 
at  all  familiar  to  his  mother,  asking  for  letters 
about  England,  but  writing  scantily  about  himself. 
Mrs.  Transome  had  kept  up  the  habit  of  writing  to 
her  son,  but  gradually  the  unfruitful  years  had 
dulled  her  hopes  and  yearnings ;  increasing  anxie- 
ties about  money  had  worried  her,  and  she  was 
more  sure  of  being  fretted  by  bad  news  about  her 
dissolute  eldest  son  than  of  hearing  anything  to 
cheer  her  from  Harold.  She  had  begun  to  live 
merely  in  small  immediate  cares  and  occupations, 
and,  like  all  eager-minded  women  who  advance  in 
life  without  any  activity  of  tenderness  or  any  large 
sympathy,  she  had  contracted  small  rigid  habits  of 
thinking  and  acting,  she  had  her  "  ways "  which 
must  not  be  crossed,  and  had  learned  to  fill  up  the 
great  void  of  life  with  giving  small  orders  to  tenants, 
insisting  on  medicines  for  infirm  cottagers,  winning 
small  triumphs  in  bargains  and  personal  economies, 
and  parrying  ill-natured  remarks  of  Lady  Debarry's 
by  lancet-edged  epigrams.  So  her  life  had  gone  on 
till  more  than  a  year  ago,  when  that  desire  which 
had  been  so  hungry  when  she  was  a  blooming  young 
mother  was  at  last  fulfilled,  —  at  last,  when  her 
hair  was  gray,  and  her  face  looked  bitter,  restless, 
and  unenjoying,  like  her  life.  The  news  came  from 
Jersey  that  Durfey,  the  imbecile  son,  was  dead. 
Now  Harold  was  heir  to  the  estate ;  now  the  wealth 
he  had  gained  could  release  the  land  from  its  bur- 
thens ;  now  he  would  think  it  worth  while  to  re- 
turn home.  A  change  had  at  last  come  over  her 
life,  and  the  sunlight  breaking  the  clouds  at  even- 

VOL.  I.  —  3 


34  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

ing  was  pleasant,  though  the  sun  must  sink  before 
long.  Hopes,  affections,  the  sweeter  part  of  her 
memories,  started  from  their  wintry  sleep,  and  it 
once  more  seemed  a  great  good  to  have  had  a  second 
son  who  in  some  ways  had  cost  her  dearly.  But 
again  there  were  conditions  she  had  not  reckoned 
on.  When  the  good  tidings  had  been  sent  to  Har- 
old, and  he  had  announced  that  he  would  return  so 
soon  as  he  could  wind  up  his  affairs,  he  had  for  the 
first  time  informed  his  mother  that  he  had  been 
married,  that  his  Greek  wife  was  no  longer  living, 
but  that  he  should  bring  home  a  little  boy,  the 
finest  and  most  desirable  of  heirs  and  grandsons. 
Harold,  seated  in  his  distant  Smyrna  home,  consid- 
ered that  he  was  taking  a  rational  view  of  what 
things  must  have  become  by  this  time  at  the  old 
place  in  England,  when  he  figured  his  mother  as  a 
good  elderly  lady,  who  would  necessarily  be  de- 
lighted with  the  possession  on  any  terms  of  a 
healthy  grandchild,  and  would  not  mind  much 
about  the  particulars  of  the  long-concealed  marriage. 
Mrs.  Transome  had  torn  up  that  letter  in  a  rage. 
But  in  the  months  which  had  elapsed  before  Harold 
could  actually  arrive,  she  had  prepared  herself  as 
well  as  she  could  to  suppress  all  reproaches  or 
queries  which  her  son  might  resent,  and  to  ac- 
quiesce in  his  evident  wishes.  The  Teturn  was 
still  looked  for  with  longing ;  affection  and  satisfied 
pride  would  again  warm  her  later  years.  She  was 
ignorant  what  sort  of  man  Harold  had  become  now, 
and  of  course  he  must  be  changed  in  many  ways ; 
but  though  she  told  herself  this,  still  the  image 
that  she  knew,  the  image  fondness  clung  to,  neces- 
sarily prevailed  over  the  negatives  insisted  on  by 
her  reason. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  35 

And  so  it  was  that  when  she  had  moved  to  the 
door  to'  meet  him,  she  had  been  sure  that  she 
should  clasp  her  son  again,  and  feel  that  he  was 
the  same  who  had  been  her  boy,  her  little  one, 
the  loved  child  of  her  passionate  youth.  An  hour 
seemed  to  have  changed  everything  for  her.  A 
woman's  hopes  are  woven  of  sunbeams  ;  a  shadow 
annihilates  them.  The  shadow  which  had  fallen 
over  Mrs.  Transome  in  this  first  interview  with  her 
son  was  the  presentiment  of  her  powerlessness. 
If  things  went  wrong,  if  Harold  got  unpleasantly 
disposed  in  a  certain  direction  where  her  chief 
dread  had  always  lain,  she  seemed  to  foresee  that 
her  words  would  be  of  no  avail.  The  keenness 
of  her  anxiety  in  this  matter  had  served  as  insight ; 
and  Harold's  rapidity,  decision,  and  indifference  to 
any  impressions  in  others  which  did  not  further  or 
impede  his  own  purposes,  had  made  themselves  felt 
by  her  as  much  as  she  would  have  felt  the  un- 
manageable strength  of  a  great  bird  which  had 
alighted  near  her,  and  allowed  her  to  stroke  its 
wing  for  a  moment  because  food  lay  near  her. 

Under  the  cold  weight  of  these  thoughts  Mrs. 
Transome  shivered.  That  physical  reaction  roused 
her  from  her  reverie,  and  she  could  now  hear  the 
gentle  knocking  at  the  door  to  which  she  had  been 
deaf  before.  Notwithstanding  her  activity  and  the 
fewness  of  her  servants,  she  had  never  dressed  her- 
self without  aid ;  nor  would  that  small,  neat,  ex- 
quisitely clean  old  woman  who  now  presented 
herself  have  wished  that  her  labour  should  be 
saved  at  the  expense  of  such  a  sacrifice  on  her 
lady's  part.  The  small  old  woman  was  Mrs. 
Hickes,  the  butler's  wife,  who  acted  as  house- 
keeper,   lady's-maid,    and    superintendent    of    the 


36  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

kitchen,  —  the  large  stony  scene  of  inconsiderable 
cooking.  Forty  years  ago  she  had  entered  Mrs. 
Transome's  service,  when  that  lady  was  beautiful 
Miss  Lingon  ;  and  her  mistress  still  called  her  Den- 
ner,  as  she  had  done  in  the  old  days. 

"The  bell  has  rung,  then,  Denner,  without  my 
hearing  it  ? "  said  Mrs.  Transome,  rising. 

"Yes,  madam,"  said  Denner,  reaching  from  a 
wardrobe  an  old  black  velvet  dress  trimmed  with 
much-mended  point,  in  which  Mrs.  Transome  was 
wont  to  look  queenly  of  an  evening. 

Denner  had  still  strong  eyes  of  that  short-sighted 
kind  which  sees  through  the  narrowest  chink  be- 
tween the  eyelashes.  The  physical  contrast  be- 
tween the  tall,  eagle-faced,  dark-eyed  lady  and 
the  little  peering  waiting-woman,  who  had  been 
round-featured  and  of  pale,  mealy  complexion  from 
her  youth  up,  had  doubtless  had  a  strong  influence 
in  determining  Denner's  feeling  towards  her  mis- 
tress, which  was  of  that  worshipful  sort  paid  to  a 
goddess  in  ages  when  it  was  not  thought  necessary 
or  likely  that  a  goddess  should  be  very  moral. 
There  were  different  orders  of  beings,  —  so  ran 
Denner's  creed,  —  and  she  belonged  to  another  or- 
der than  that  to  which  her  mistress  belonged.  She 
had  a  mind  as  sharp  as  a  needle,  and  would  have 
seen  through  and  through  the  ridiculous  preten- 
sions of  a  born  servant  who  did  not  submissively 
accept  the  rigid  fate  which  had  given  her  born 
superiors.  She  would  have  called  such  pretensions 
the  wrigglings  of  a  worm  that  tried  to  walk  on  its 
tail.  There  was  a  tacit  understanding  that  Den- 
ner knew  all  her  mistress's  secrets,  and  her  speech 
was  plain  and  unflattering ;  yet  with  wonderful 
subtlety  of  instinct  she  never  said  anything  which 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  37 

Mrs.  Transome  could  feel  humiliated  by,  as  by  a 
familiarity  from  a  servant  who  knew  too  much. 
Denner  identified  her  own  dignity  with  that  of 
her  mistress.  She  was  a  hard-headed,  godless  lit- 
tle woman,  but  with  a  character  to  be  reckoned  on 
as  you  reckon  on  the  qualities  of  iron. 

Peering  into  Mrs.'Transome's  face,  she  saw  clearly 
that  the  meeting  with  the  son  had  been  a  disap- 
pointment in  some  way.  She  spoke  with  a  refined 
accent,  in  a  low,  quick,  monotonous  tone,  — 

"  Mr.  Harold  is  drest ;  he  shook  me  by  the  hand 
in  the  corridor,  and  was  very  pleasant." 

"  What  an  alteration,  Denner !  No  likeness  to 
me  now." 

"  Handsome,  though,  spite  of  his  being  so  browned 
and  stout.  There 's  a  fine  presence  about  Mr. 
Harold.  I  remember  you  used  to  say,  madam,  there 
were  some  people  you  would  always  know  were  in 
the  room  though  they  stood  round  a  corner,  and 
others  you  might  never  see  till  you  ran  against 
them.  That 's  as  true  as  truth.  And  as  for  like- 
nesses, thirty-five  and  sixty  are  not  much  alike, 
only  to  people's  memories." 

Mrs.  Transome  knew  perfectly  that  Denner  had 
divined  her  thoughts. 

"  I  don't  know  how  things  will  go  on  now ;  but 
it  seems  something  too  good  to  happen  that  they 
will  go  on  well.  I  am  afraid  of  ever  expecting 
anything  good  again." 

"That's  weakness,  madam.  Things  don't  hap- 
pen because  they  're  bad  or  good,  else  all  eggs 
would  be  addled  or  none  at  all,  and  at  the  most  it 
is  but  six  to  the  dozen.  There  's  good  chances  and 
bad  chances,  and  nobody's  luck  is  pulled  only  by 
one  string." 


38  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  What  a  woman  you  are,  Denner !  You  talk 
like  a  French  infidel.  It  seems  to  me  you  are  afraid 
of  nothing.  I  have  been  full  of  fears  all  my  life,  — 
always  seeing  something  or  other  hanging  over  me 
that  I  could  n't  bear  to  happen." 

"  Well,  madam,  put  a  good  face  on  it,  and  don't 
seem  to  be  on  the  lookout  for  crows,  else  you  '11  set 
other  people  watching.  Here  you  have  a  rich  son 
come  home,  and  the  debts  will  all  be  paid,  and  you 
have  your  health  and  can  ride  about,  and  you  've 
such  a  face  and  figure,  and  will  have  if  you  live  to 
be  eighty,  that  everybody  is  cap  in  hand  to  you 
before  they  know  who  you  are,  —  let  me  fasten  up 
your  veil  a  little  higher ;  there  's  a  good  deal  of 
pleasure  in  life  for  you  yet." 

"  Nonsense !  there  's  no  pleasure  for  old  women, 
unless  they  get  it  out  of  tormenting  other  people. 
What  are  your  pleasures,  Denner,  —  besides  being  a 
slave  to  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  there  's  pleasure  in  knowing  one  's  not  a 
fool,  like  half  the  people  one  sees  about.  And 
managing  one's  husband  is  some  pleasure ;  and  do- 
ing all  one's  business  well.  Why,  if  I  've  only  got 
some  orange  flowers  to  candy,  I  should  n't  like  to 
die  till  I  see  them  all  right.  Then  there  's  the  sun- 
shine now  and  then ;  I  like  that  as  the  cats  do.  I 
look  upon  it,  life  is  like  our  game  at  whist,  when 
Banks  and  his  wife  come  to  the  still-room  of  an 
evening.  I  don't  enjoy  the  game  much,  but  I  like 
to  play  my  cards  well,  and  see  what  will  be  the 
end  of  it ;  and  I  want  to  see  you  make  the  best  of 
your  hand,  madam,  for  your  luck  has  been  mine 
these  forty  years  now.  But  I  must  go  and  see  how 
Kitty  dishes  up  the  dinner,  unless  you  have  any 
more  commands." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  39 

"  No,  Denner ;  I  am  going  down  immediately." 
As  Mrs.  Transome  descended  the  stone  staircase 
in  her  old  black  velvet  and  point,  her  appearance 
justified  Denner's  personal  compliment.  She  had 
that  high-born  imperious  air  which  would  have 
marked  her  as  an  object  of  hatred  and  reviling  by  a 
revolutionary  mob.  Her  person  was  too  typical  of 
social  distinctions  to  be  passed  by  with  indifference 
by  any  one ;  it  would  have  fitted  an  empress  in  her 
own  right,  who  had  had  to  rule  in  spite  of  faction, 
to  dare  the  violation  of  treaties  and  dread  retribu- 
tive invasions,  to  grasp  after  new  territories,  to  be 
defiant  in  desperate  circumstances,  and  to  feel  a 
woman's  hunger  of  the  heart  forever  unsatisfied. 
Yet  Mrs.  Transome's  cares  and  occupations  had  not 
been  at  all  of  an  imperial  sort.  For  thirty  years 
she  had  led  the  monotonous  narrowing  life  which 
used  to  be  the  lot  of  our  poorer  gentry  ;  who  never 
went  to  town,  and  were  probably  not  on  speaking 
terms  with  two  out  of  the  five  families  whose  parks 
lay  within  the  distance  of  a  drive.  When  she  was 
young  she  had  been  thought  wonderfully  clever  and 
accomplished,  and  had  been  rather  ambitious  of 
intellectual  superiority,  —  had  secretly  picked  out 
for  private  reading  the  lighter  parts  of  dangerous 
French  authors,  —  and  in  company  had  been  able 
to  talk  of  Mr.  Burke's  style  or  of  Chateaubriand's 
eloquence,  —  had  laughed  at  the  Lyrical  Ballads, 
and  admired  Mr.  Southey's  Thalaba.  She  always 
thought  that  the  dangerous  French  writers  were 
wicked,  and  that  her  reading  of  them  was  a  sin ; 
but  many  sinful  things  were  highly  agreeable  to 
her,  and  many  things  which  she  did  not  doubt  to 
be  good  and  true  were  dull  and  meaningless.  She 
found  ridicule  of  Biblical  characters  very  amusing, 


4o  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

and  she  was  interested  in  stories  of  illicit  passion ; 
but  she  believed  all  the  while  that  truth  and  safety 
lay  in  due  attendance  on  prayers  and  sermons,  in 
the  admirable  doctrines  and  ritual  of  the  Church 
of  England,  equally  remote  from  Puritanism  and 
Popery,  —  in  fact,  in  such  a  view  of  this  world  and 
the  next  as  would  preserve  the  existing  arrange- 
ments of  English  society  quite  unshaken,  keeping 
down  the  obtrusiveness  of  the  vulgar  and  the  dis- 
content of  the  poor.  The  history  of  the  Jews,  she 
knew,  ought  to  be  preferred  to  any  profane  history  ; 
the  Pagans,  of  course,  were  vicious,  and  their  reli- 
gions quite  nonsensical,  considered  as  religions,  —  but 
classical  learning  came  from  the  Pagans ;  the  Greeks 
were  famous  for  sculpture;  the  Italians  for  paint- 
ing ;  the  middle  ages  were  dark  and  Papistical ;  but 
now  Christianity  went  hand  in  hand  with  civiliza- 
tion, and  the  providential  government  of  the  world, 
though  a  little  confused  and  entangled  in  foreign 
countries,  in  our  favoured  land  was  clearly  seen  to 
be  carried  forward  on  Tory  and  Church  of  England 
principles,  sustained  by  the  succession  of  the  House 
of  Brunswick,  and  by  sound  English  divines.  For 
Miss  Lingon  had  had  a  superior  governess,  who 
held  that  a  woman  should  be  able  to  write  a  good 
letter,  and  to  express  herself  with  propriety  on  gen- 
eral subjects.  And  it  is  astonishing  how  effective 
this  education  appeared  in  a  handsome  girl,  who 
sat  supremely  well  on  horseback,  sang  and  played  a 
little,  painted  small  figures  in  water-colors,  had  a 
naughty  sparkle  in  her  eyes  when  she  made  a  dar- 
ing quotation,  and  an  air  of  serious  dignity  when 
she  recited  something  from  her  store  of  correct 
opinions.  But  however  such  a  stock  of  ideas  may 
be  made  to  tell  in  elegant  society,  and  during  a  few 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  41 

seasons  in  town,  no  amount  of  bloom  and  beauty 
can  make  them  a  perennial  source  of  interest  in 
things  not  personal ;  and  the  notion  that  what  is 
true  and,  in  general,  good  for  mankind,  is  stupid 
and  drug-like,  is  not  a  safe  theoretic  basis  in  cir- 
cumstances of  temptation  and  difficulty.  Mrs. 
Transome  had  been  in  her  bloom  before  this  century 
began,  and  in  the  long  painful  years  since  then, 
what  she  had  once  regarded  as  her  knowledge  and 
accomplishments  had  become  as  valueless  as  old- 
fashioned  stucco  ornaments,  of  which  the  substance 
was  never  worth  anything,  while  the  form  is  no 
longer  to  the  taste  of  any  living  mortal.  Crosses, 
mortifications,  money-cares,  conscious  blameworthi- 
ness, had  changed  the  aspect  of  the  world  for  her : 
there  was  anxiety  in  the  morning  sunlight;  there 
was  unkind  triumph  or  disapproving  pity  in  the 
glances  of  greeting  neighbours ;  there  was  advanc- 
ing age,  and  a  contracting  prospect  in  the  changing 
seasons  as  they  came  and  went.  And  what  could 
then  sweeten  the  days  to  a  hungry,  much-exacting 
self  like  Mrs.  Transome's  ?  Under  protracted  ill 
every  living  creature  will  find  something  that  makes 
a  comparative  ease,  and  even  when  life  seems  woven 
of  pain,  will  convert  the  fainter  pang  into  a  desire. 
Mrs.  Transome,  whose  imperious  will  had  availed 
little  to  ward  off  the  great  evils  of  her  life,  found 
the  opiate  for  her  discontent  in  the  exertion  of  her 
will  about  smaller  things.  She  was  not  cruel,  and 
could  not  enjoy  thoroughly  what  she  called  the  old 
woman's  pleasure  of  tormenting ;  but  she  liked 
every  little  sign  of  power  her  lot  had  left  her.  She 
liked  that  a  tenant  should  stand  bareheaded  below 
her  as  she  sat  on  horseback.  She  liked  to  insist 
that  work  done  without  her  orders  should  be  un- 


42  EELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

done  from  beginning  to  end.  She  liked  to  be  courte- 
sied  and  bowed  to  by  all  the  congregation  as  she 
walked  up  the  little  barn  of  a  church.  She  liked 
to  change  a  labourer's  medicine  fetched  from  the 
doctor,  and  substitute  a  prescription  of  her  own.  If 
she  had  only  been  more  haggard  and  less  majestic, 
those  who  had  glimpses  of  her  outward  life  might 
have  said  she  was  a  tyrannical,  griping  harridan, 
with  a  tongue  like  a  razor.  No  one  said  exactly 
that;  but  they  never  said  anything  like  the  full 
truth  about  her,  or  divined  what  was  hidden  un- 
der that  outward  life,  —  a  woman's  keen  sensibility 
and  dread,  which  lay  screened  behind  all  her  petty 
habits  and  narrow  notions,  as  some  quivering  thing 
with  eyes  and  throbbing  heart  may  lie  crouching 
behind  withered  rubbish.  The  sensibility  and  dread 
had  palpitated  all  the  faster  in  the  prospect  of  her 
son's  return  ;  and  now  that  she  had  seen  him,  she 
said  to  herself,  in  her  bitter  way :  "  It  is  a  lucky  eel 
that  escapes  skinning.  The  best  happiness  I  shall 
ever  know,  will  be  to  escape  the  worst  misery." 


CHAPTEE  II. 

A  jolly  parson  of  the  good  old  stock, 

By  birth  a  gentleman,  yet  homely  too, 

Suiting  his  phrase  to  Hodge  and  Margery 

Whom  he  once  christened,  and  has  married  since. 

A  little  lax  in  doctrine  and  in  life, 

Not  thinking  God  was  captious  in  such  thiugs 

As  what  a  man  might  drink  on  holidays, 

But  holding  true  religion  was  to  do 

As  you  'd  be  done  by,  —  which  could  never  mean 

That  he  should  preach  three  sermons  in  a  week. 

Haeold  Tkansome  did  not  choose  to  spend  the 
whole  evening  with  his  mother.  It  was  his  habit  to 
compress  a  great  deal  of  effective  conversation  into  a 
short  space  of  time,  asking  rapidly  all  the  questions 
he  wanted  to  get  answered,  and  diluting  no  subject 
with  irrelevancies,  paraphrase,  or  repetitions.  He 
volunteered  no  information  about  himself  and  his 
past  life  at  Smyrna,  but  answered  pleasantly  enough, 
though  briefly,  whenever  his  mother  asked  for  any 
detail.  He  was  evidently  ill-satisfied  as  to  his 
palate,  trying  red  pepper  to  everything,  then  asking 
if  there  were  any  relishing  sauces  in  the  house,  and 
when  Hickes  brought  various  home-filled  bottles, 
trying  several,  finding  them  failures,  and  finally  fall- 
ing back  from  his  plate  in  despair.  Yet  he  remained 
good-humoured,  saying  something  to  his  father  now 
and  then  for  the  sake  of  being  kind,  and  looking  on 
with  a  pitying  shrug  as  he  saw  him  watch  Hickes 


44  EELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

cutting  his  food.  Mrs.  Transome  thought  with 
some  bitterness  that  Harold  showed  more  feeling 
for  her  feeble  husband  who  had  never  cared  in  the 
least  about  him,  than  for  her,  who  had  given  him 
more  than  the  usual  share  of  mother's  love.  An 
hour  after  dinner,  Harold,  who  had  already  been 
turning  over  the  leaves  of  his  mother's  account- 
books,  said, — 

"  I  shall  just  cross  the  park  to  the  parsonage  to 
see  my  uncle  Lingon." 

"  Very  well.     He  can  answer  more  questions  for 

you." 

"  Yes,"  said  Harold,  quite  deaf  to  the  innuendo, 
and  accepting  the  words  as  a  simple  statement  of 
the  fact.  "  I  want  to  hear  all  about  the  game  and 
the  North  Loamshire  hunt.  I  'm  fond  of  sport ;  we 
had  a  great  deal  of  it  at  Smyrna,  and  it  keeps  down 
my  fat." 

The  Eev.  John  Lingon  became  very  talkative  over 
his  second  bottle  of  port,  which  was  opened  on  his 
nephew's  arrival.  He  was  not  curious  about  the 
manners  of  Smyrna  or  about  Harold's  experience, 
but  he  unbosomed  himself  very  freely  as  to  what  he 
himself  liked  and  disliked,  which  of  the  farmers  he 
suspected  of  killing  the  foxes,  what  game  he  had 
bagged  that  very  morning,  what  spot  he  would 
recommend  as  a  new  cover,  and  the  comparative 
flatness  of  all  existing  sport  compared  with  cock- 
fighting,  under  which  Old  England  had  been  pros- 
perous and  glorious,  while,  so  far  as  he  could  see, 
it  had  gained  little  by  the  abolition  of  a  practice 
which  sharpened  the  faculties  of  men,  gratified  the 
instincts  of  the  fowl,  and  carried  out  the  designs  of 
heaven  in  its  admirable  device  of  spurs.  From  these 
main  topics,  which  made  his  points  of  departure  and 


EELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  45 

return,  he  rambled  easily  enough  at  any  new  sugges- 
tion or  query  ;  so  that  when  Harold  got  home  at  a 
late  hour,  he  was  conscious  of  having  gathered  from 
amidst  the  pompous,  full-toned  triviality  of  his 
uncle's  chat  some  impressions  which  were  of  prac- 
tical importance.  Among  the  Eector's  dislikes,  it 
appeared,  was  Mr.  Matthew  Jermyn. 

"  A  fat-handed,  glib-tongued  fellow,  with  a  scented 
cambric  handkerchief;  one  of  your  educated  low- 
bred fellows  ;  a  foundling  who  got  his  Latin  for 
nothing  at  Christ's  Hospital ;  one  of  your  middle- 
class  upstarts  who  want  to  rank  with  gentlemen, 
and  think  they  '11  do  it  with  kid  gloves  and  new 
furniture." 

But  since  Harold  meant  to  stand  for  the  county, 
Mr.  Lingon  was  equally  emphatic  as  to  the  neces- 
sity of  his  not  quarrelling  with  Jermyn  till  the 
election  was  over.  Jermyn  must  be  his  agent ; 
Harold  must  wink  hard  till  he  found  himself  safely 
returned ;  and  even  then  it  might  be  well  to  let 
Jermyn  drop  gently  and  raise  no  scandal.  He  him- 
self had  no  quarrel  with  the  fellow ;  a  clergyman 
should  have  no  quarrels,  and  he  made  it  a  point  to 
be  able  to  take  wine  with  any  man  he  met  at  table. 
And  as  to  the  estate,  and  his  sister's  going  too  much 
by  Jermyn's  advice,  he  never  meddled  with  busi- 
ness ;  it  was  not  his  duty  as  a  clergyman.  That, 
he  considered,  was  the  meaning  of  Melchisedec  and 
the  tithe,  —  a  subject  into  which  he  had  gone  to 
some  depth  thirty  years  ago,  when  he  preached  the 
Visitation  sermon. 

The  discovery  that  Harold  meant  to  stand  on  the 
Liberal  side  —  nay,  that  he  boldly  declared  himself 
a  Kadical  —  was  rather  startling  ;  but  to  his  uncle's 
good-humour,  beatified  by  the  sipping  of  port-wine, 


46  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

nothing  could  seem  highly  objectionable,  provided 
it  did  not  disturb  that  operation.  In  the  course  of 
half  an  hour  he  had  brought  himself  to  see  that 
anything  really  worthy  to  be  called  British  Toryism 
had  been  entirely  extinct  since  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington and  Sir  Eobert  Peel  had  passed  the  Cath- 
olic Emancipation  Bill;  that  Whiggery,  with  its 
rights  of  man  stopping  short  at  ten-pound  house- 
holders, and  its  policy  of  pacifying  a  wild  beast 
with  a  bite,  was  a  ridiculous  monstrosity ;  that 
therefore,  since  an  honest  man  could  not  call  him- 
self a  Tory,  which  it  was,  in  fact,  as  impossible  to 
be  now  as  to  fight  for  the  old  Pretender,  and  could 
still  less  become  that  execrable  monstrosity  a  Whig, 
there  remained  but  one  course  open  to  him.  "  Why, 
lad,  if  the  world  was  turned  into  a  swamp,  I  sup- 
pose we  should  leave  off  shoes  and  stockings,  and 
walk  about  like  cranes,"  —  whence  it  followed 
plainly  enough  that  in  these  hopeless  times  nothing 
was  left  to  men  of  sense  and  good  family  but  to 
retard  the  national  ruin  by  declaring  themselves 
Eadicals,  and  take  the  inevitable  process  of  chang- 
ing everything  out  of  the  hands  of  beggarly  dema- 
gogues and  purse-proud  tradesmen.  It  is  true  the 
Rector  was  helped  to  this  chain  of  reasoning  by 
Harold's  remarks  ;  but  he  soon  became  quite  ardent 
in  asserting  the  conclusion. 

"  If  the  mob  can't  be  turned  back,  a  man  of  fam- 
ily must  try  and  head  the  mob,  and  save  a  few 
homes  and  hearths,  and  keep  the  country  up  on  its 
last  legs  as  long  as  he  can.  And  you  're  a  man  of 
family,  my  lad,  —  dash  it !  you  're  a  Lingon,  what- 
ever else  you  may  be,  and  I  '11  stand  by  you.  I  've 
no  great  interest ;  I  'm  a  poor  parson.  I  've  been 
forced  to  give  up  hunting ;  my  pointers  and  a  glass 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  47 

of  good  wine  are  the  only  decencies  becoming  my 
station  that  I  can  allow  myself.  But  1 11  give  you 
my  countenance,  —  I  '11  stick  to  you  as  my  nephew. 
There  's  no  need  for  me  to  change  sides  exactly.  I 
was  born  a  Tory,  and  I  shall  never  be  a  bishop. 
But  if  anybody  says  you  're  in  the  wrong,  I  shall 
say,  '  My  nephew  is  in  the  right ;  he  has  turned 
Radical  to  save  his  country.  If  William  Pitt  had 
been  living  now,  he  'd  have  done  the  same ;  for 
what  did  he  say  when  he  was  dying  ?  Not 
"  Oh,  save  my  party  !  "  but  "  Oh,  save  my  country, 
Heaven  ! " '  That  was  what  they  dinned  in  our 
ears  about  Peel  and  the  Duke  ;  and  now  I  '11  turn 
it  round  upon  them.  They  shall  be  hoist  with 
their  own  petard.     Yes,  yes,  I  '11  stand  by  you." 

Harold  did  not  feel  sure  that  his  uncle  would 
thoroughly  retain  this  satisfactory  thread  of  argu- 
ment in  the  uninspired  hours  of  the  morning  ;  but 
the  old  gentleman  was  sure  to  take  the  facts  easily 
in  the  end,  and  there  was  no  fear  of  family  coolness 
or  quarrelling  on  this  side.  Harold  was  glad  of  it. 
He  was  not  to  be  turned  aside  from  any  course  he 
had  chosen;  but  he  disliked  all  quarrelling  as  an 
unpleasant  expenditure  of  energy  that  could  have 
no  good  practical  result.  He  was  at  once  active 
and  luxurious ;  fond  of  mastery,  and  good-natured 
enough  to  wish  that  every  one  about  him  should 
like  his  mastery ;  not  caring  greatly  to  know  other 
people's  thoughts,  and  ready  to  despise  them  as 
blockheads  if  their  thoughts  differed  from  his,  and 
yet  solicitous  that  they  should  have  no  colourable 
reason  for  slight  thoughts  about  him.  The  block- 
heads must  be  forced  to  respect  him.  Hence,  in 
proportion  as  he  foresaw  that  his  equals  in  the 
neighbourhood  would  be  indignant  with  him  for  his 


48  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

political  choice,  he  cared  keenly  about  making  a 
good  figure  before  them  in  every  other  way.  His 
conduct  as  a  landholder  was  to  be  judicious,  his  es- 
tablishment was  to  be  kept  up  generously,  his  im- 
becile father  treated  with  careful  regard,  his  family 
relations  entirely  without  scandal.  He  knew  that 
affairs  had  been  unpleasant  in  his  youth,  —  that 
there  had  been  ugly  lawsuits,  —  and  that  his  scape- 
grace brother  Durfey  had  helped  to  lower  still  far- 
ther the  depressed  condition  of  the  family.  All 
this  must  be  retrieved,  now  that  events  had  made 
Harold  the  head  of  the  Transome  name. 

Jermyn  must  be  used  for  the  election,  and  after 
that,  if  he  must  be  got  rid  of,  it  would  be  well  to 
shake  him  loose  quietly :  his  uncle  was  probably 
right  on  both  these  points.  But  Harold's  expecta- 
tion that  he  should  want  to  get  rid  of  Jermyn  was 
founded  on  other  reasons  than  his  scented  handker- 
chief and  his  charity-school  Latin. 

If  the  lawyer  had  been  presuming  on  Mrs.  Tran- 
some's  ignorance  as  a  woman,  and  on  the  stupid 
rakishness  of  the  original  heir,  the  new  heir  would 
prove  to  him  that  he  had  calculated  rashly.  Other- 
wise, Harold  had  no  prejudice  against  him.  In  his 
boyhood  and  youth  he  had  seen  Jermyn  frequenting 
Transome  Court,  but  had  regarded  him  with  that 
total  indifference  with  which  youngsters  are  apt  to 
view  those  who  neither  deny  them  pleasures  nor 
give  them  any.  Jermyn  used  to  smile  at  him,  and 
speak  to  him  affably ;  but  Harold,  half  proud,  half 
shy,  got  away  from  such  patronage  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible :  he  knew  Jermyn  was  a  man  of  business ;  his 
father,  his  uncle,  and  Sir  Maximus  Debarry  did  not 
regard  him  as  a  gentleman  and  their  equal.  He 
had  known  no  evil  of  the  man  ;  but  he  saw  now 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  49 

that  if  he  were  really  a  covetous  upstart,  there  had 
been  a  temptation  for  him  in  the  management  of 
the  Transome  affairs ;  and  it  was  clear  that  the 
estate  was  in  a  bad  condition. 

When  Mr.  Jermyn  was  ushered  into  the  break- 
fast-room the  next  morning,  Harold  found  him 
surprisingly  little  altered  by  the  fifteen  years.  He 
was  gray,  but  still  remarkably  handsome ;  fat,  but 
tall  enough  to  bear  that  trial  to  man's  dignity. 
There  was  as  strong  a  suggestion  of  toilet  about  him 
as  if  he  had  been  five-and-twenty  instead  of  nearly 
sixty.  He  chose  always  to  dress  in  black,  and  was 
especially  addicted  to  black  satin  waistcoats,  which 
carried  out  the  general  sleekness  of  his  appearance ; 
and  this,  together  with  his  white,  fat,  but  beauti- 
fully shaped  hands,  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
rubbing  gently  on  his  entrance  into  a  room,  gave 
him  very  much  the  air  of  a  lady's  physician.  Harold 
remembered  with  some  amusement  his  uncle's  dis- 
like of  those  conspicuous  hands  ;  but  as  his  own 
were  soft  and  dimpled,  and  as  he  too  was  given  to 
the  innocent  practice  of  rubbing  those  members,  his 
suspicions  were  not  yet  deepened. 

"  I  congratulate  you,  Mrs.  Transome,"  said  Jermyn, 
with  a  soft  and  deferential  smile,  "  all  the  more,"  he 
added,  turning  towards  Harold,  "now  I  have  the 
pleasure  of  actually  seeing  your  son.  I  am  glad  to 
perceive  that  an  Eastern  climate  has  not  been  un- 
favourable to  him." 

"  No,"  said  Harold,  shaking  Jermyn's  hand  care- 
lessly, and  speaking  with  more  than  his  usual  rapid 
brusqueness,  "  the  question  is,  whether  the  English 
climate  will  agree  with  me.  It's  deuced  shifting 
and  damp ;  and  as  for  the  food,  it  would  be  the  finest 
thing  in  the  world  for  this  country  if  the  southern 

VOL.  I. — 4 


50  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

cooks  would  change  their  religion,  get  persecuted, 
and  fly  to  England,  as  the  old  silk-weavers  did." 

"  There  are  plenty  of  foreign  cooks  for  those  who 
are  rich  enough  to  pay  for  them,  I  suppose,"  said 
Mrs.  Transome  ;  "  but  they  are  unpleasant  people  to 
have  about  one's  house." 

"  Gad !  I  don't  think  so,"  said  Harold. 

"  The  old  servants  are  sure  to  quarrel  with  them." 

"  That 's  no  concern  of  mine.  The  old  servants 
will  have  to  put  tip  with  my  man  Dominic,  who  will 
show  them  how  to  cook  and  do  everything  else  in 
a  way  that  will  rather  astonish  them." 

"  Old  people  are  not  so  easily  taught  to  change  all 
their  ways,  Harold." 

"  Well,  they  can  give  up  and  watch  the  young 
ones,"  said  Harold,  thinking  only  at  that  moment  of 
old  Mrs.  Hickes  and  Dominic.  But  his  mother  was 
not  thinking  of  them  only. 

"  You  have  a  valuable  servant,  it  seems,"  said 
Jermyn,  who  understood  Mrs.  Transome  better  than 
her  son  did,  and  wished  to  smoothen  the  current  of 
their  dialogue. 

"  Oh,  one  of  those  wonderful  southern  fellows 
that  make  one's  life  easy.  He 's  of  no  country  in 
particular.  I  don't  know  whether  he  's  most  of  a 
Jew,  a  Greek,  an  Italian,  or  a  Spaniard.  He  speaks 
five  or  six  languages,  one  as  well  as  another.  He  's 
cook,  valet,  major-domo,  and  secretary  all  in  one ; 
and  what 's  more,  he 's  an  affectionate  fellow,  —  I 
can  trust  to  his  attachment.  That's  a  sort  of 
human  specimen  that  does  n't  grow  here  in  Eng- 
land, I  fancy.  I  should  have  been  badly  off  if  I 
could  not  have  brought  Dominic." 

They  sat  down  to  breakfast  with  such  slight 
talk  as  this  going  on.     Each  of  the  party  was  pre- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  51 

occupied  and  uneasy.  Harold's  mind  was  busy- 
constructing  probabilities  about  what  he  should 
discover  of  Jermyn's  mismanagement  or  dubious 
application  of  funds,  and  the  sort  of  self-command 
he  must  in  the  worst  case  exercise  in  order  to  use 
the  man  as  long  as  he  wanted  him.  Jermyn  was 
closely  observing  Harold  with  an  unpleasant  sense 
that  there  was  an  expression  of  acuteness  and  de- 
termination about  him  which  would  make  him 
formidable.  He  would  certainly  have  preferred  at 
that  moment  that  there  had  been  no  second  heir  of 
the  Transome  name  to  come  back  upon  him  from 
the  East.  Mrs.  Transome  was  not  observing  the 
two  men ;  rather,  her  hands  were  cold,  and  her 
whole  person  shaken  by  their  presence.  She  seemed 
to  hear  and  see  what  they  said  and  did  with  preter- 
natural acuteness,  and  yet  she  was  also  seeing  and 
hearing  what  had  been  said  and  done  many  years 
before,  and  feeling  a  dim  terror  about  the  future. 
There  were  piteous  sensibilities  in  this  faded  woman, 
who  thirty-four  years  ago,  in  the  splendour  of  her 
bloom,  had  been  imperious  to  one  of  these  men,  and 
had  rapturously  pressed  the  other  as  an  infant  to 
her  bosom,  and  now  knew  that  she  was  of  little 
consequence  to  either  of  them. 

"Well,  what  are  the  prospects  about  the  elec- 
tion ?  "  said  Harold,  as  the  breakfast  was  advancing. 
"  There  are  two  Whigs  and  one  Conservative  likely 
to  be  in  the  field,  I  know.  What  is  your  opinion 
of  the  chances  ? " 

Mr.  Jermyn  had  a  copious  supply  of  words,  which 
often  led  him  into  periphrase ;  but  he  cultivated  a 
hesitating  stammer,  which,  with  a  handsome  impas- 
siveness  of  face,  except  when  he  was  smiling  at  a 
woman,  or  when  the  latent  savageness  of  his  nature 


52  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

was  thoroughly  roused,  he  had  found  useful  in  many 
relations,  especially  in  business.  No  one  could  have 
found  out  that  he  was  not  at  his  ease.  "  My  opinion," 
he  replied,  "  is  in  a  state  of  balance  at  present. 
This  division  of  the  county,  you  are  aware,  contains 
one  manufacturing  town  of  the  first  magnitude, 
and  several  smaller  ones.  The  manufacturing  in- 
terest is  widely  dispersed.  So  far  —  a  —  there  is  a 
presumption  —  a  —  in  favour  of  the  two  Liberal 
candidates.  Still,  with  a  careful  canvass  of  the 
agricultural  districts,  such  as  those  we  have  round 
us  at  Treby  Magna,  I  think  —  a  —  the  auguries  — 
a  —  would  not  be  unfavourable  to  the  return  of  a 
Conservative.  A  fourth  candidate  of  good  position, 
who  should  coalesce  with  Mr.  Debarry  —  a  —  " 

Here  Mr.  Jermyn  hesitated  for  the  third  time, 
and  Harold  broke  in,  — 

"  That  will  not  be  my  line  of  action,  so  we  need 
not  discuss  it.  If  I  put  up,  it  will  be  as  a  Radical ; 
and  I  fancy,  in  any  county  that  would  return 
Whigs  there  would  be  plenty  of  voters  to  be  combed 
off  by  a  Eadical  who  offered  himself  with  good 
pretensions." 

There  was  the  slightest  possible  quiver  discerni- 
ble across  Jermyn's  face.  Otherwise  he  sat  as  he 
had  done  before,  with  his  eyes  fixed  abstractedly  on 
the  frill  of  a  ham  before  him,  and  his  hand  trifling 
with  his  fork.  He  did  not  answer  immediately ;  but 
when  he  did,  he  looked  round  steadily  at  Harold. 

"  I  'm  delighted  to  perceive  that  you  have  kept 
yourself  so  thoroughly  acquainted  with  English 
politics." 

"  Oh,  of  course ! "  said  Harold,  impatiently.  "  I  'm 
aware  how  things  have  been  going  on  in  England. 
I  always  meant  to  come  back  ultimately.     I  suppose 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  53 

I  know  the  state  of  Europe  as  well  as  if  I  'd 
been  stationary  at  Little  Treby  for  the  last  fifteen 
years.  If  a  man  goes  to  the  East,  people  seem  to 
think  he  gets  turned  into  something  like  the  one- 
eyed  calender  in  the  '  Arabian  Nights.' " 

"  Yet  I  should  think  there  are  some  things  which 
people  who  have  been  stationary  at  Little  Treby 
could  tell  you,  Harold,"  said  Mrs.  Transome.  "  It 
did  not  signify  about  your  holding  Eadical  opinions 
at  Smyrna  ;  but  you  seem  not  to  imagine  how  your 
putting  up  as  a  Eadical  will  affect  your  position 
here  and  the  position  of  your  family.  No  one  will 
visit  you.  And  then  —  the  sort  of  people  who  will 
support  you !  You  really  have  no  idea  what  an  im- 
pression it  conveys  when  you  say  you  are  a  Eadical. 
There  are  none  of  our  equals  who  will  not  feel 
that  you  have  disgraced  yourself." 

"  Pooh  ! "  said  Harold,  rising  and  walking  along 
the  room. 

But  Mrs.  Transome  went  on  with  growing  anger 
in  her  voice :  "  It  seems  to  me  that  a  man  owes 
something  to  his  birth  and  station,  and  has  no  right 
to  take  up  this  notion  or  the  other,  just  as  it  suits 
his  fancy ;  still  less  to  work  at  the  overthrow  of  his 
class.  That  was  what  every  one  said  of  Lord  Grey, 
and  my  family  at  least  is  as  good  as  Lord  Grey's. 
You  have  wealth  now,  and  might  distinguish  your- 
self in  the  county ;  and  if  you  had  been  true 
to  your  colours  as  a  gentleman,  you  would  have  had 
all  the  greater  opportunity  because  the  times  are  so 
bad.  The  Debarrys  and  Lord  Wyvern  would  have 
set  all  the  more  store  by  you.  For  my  part,  I  can't 
conceive  what  good  you  propose  to  yourself.  I  only 
entreat  you  to  think  again  before  you  take  any 
decided  step." 


54  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Mother,"  said  Harold,  not  angrily  or  with  any 
raising  of  his  voice,  but  in  a  quick,  impatient 
manner,  as  if  the  scene  must  be  got  through  as 
quickly  as  possible,  "  it  is  natural  that  you  should 
think  in  this  way.  Women,  very  properly,  don't 
change  their  views,  but  keep  to  the  notions  in  which 
they  have  been  brought  up.  It  does  n't  signify 
what  they  think,  —  they  are  not  called  upon  to 
judge  or  to  act.  You  must  really  leave  me  to  take 
my  own  course  in  these  matters,  which  properly 
belong  to  men.  Beyond  that  I  will  gratify  any 
wish  you  choose  to  mention.  You  shall  have  a  new 
carriage  and  a  pair  of  bays  all  to  yourself  ;  you  shall 
have  the  house  done  up  in  first-rate  style,  and  I  am 
not  thinking  of  marrying,  But  let  us  understand 
that  there  shall  be  no  further  collision  between  us 
on  subjects  on  which  I  must  be  master  of  my  own 
actions." 

"And  you  will  put  the  crown  to  the  morti- 
fications of  my  life,  Harold.  I  don't  know  who 
would  be  a  mother  if  she  could  foresee  what  a  slight 
thing  she  will  be  to  her  son  when  she  is  old." 

Mrs.  Transome  here  walked  out  of  the  room  by 
the  nearest  way,  —  the  glass  door  open  towards  the 
terrace.  Mr.  Jermyn  had  risen  too,  and  his  hands 
were  on  the  back  of  his  chair.  He  looked  quite 
impassive:  it  was  not  the  first  time  he  had  seen 
Mrs.  Transome  angry ;  but  now,  for  the  first  time, 
he  thought  the  outburst  of  her  temper  would  be 
useful  to  him.  She,  poor  woman,  knew  quite  well 
that  she  had  been  unwise,  and  that  she  had  been 
making  herself  disagreeable  to  Harold  to  no  pur- 
pose. But  half  the  sorrows  of  women  would  be 
averted  if  they  could  repress  the  speech  they  know 
to  be  useless,  —  nay,  the  speech  they  have  resolved 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  55 

not  to  utter.  Harold  continued  his  walking  a 
moment  longer,  and  then  said  to  Jermyn,  — 

"  You  smoke  ? " 

"  No,  I  always  defer  to  the  ladies.  Mrs.  Jermyn 
is  peculiarly  sensitive  in  such  matters,  and  does  n't 
like  tobacco." 

Harold,  who,  underneath  all  the  tendencies  which 
had  made  him  a  Liberal,  had  intense  personal  pride, 
thought :  "  Confound  the  fellow  —  with  his  Mrs. 
Jermyn  !  Does  he  think  we  are  on  a  footing  for  me 
to  know  anything  about  his  wife  ? " 

"  Well,  I  took  my  hookah  before  breakfast,"  he  said 
aloud ;  "  so,  if  you  like,  we  '11  go  into  the  library. 
My  father  never  gets  up  till  mid-day,  I  find." 

"  Sit  down,  sit  down  ! "  said  Harold,  as  they  entered 
the  handsome,  spacious  library.  But  he  himself 
continued  to  stand  before  a  map  of  the  county 
which  he  had  opened  from  a  series  of  rollers  oc- 
cupying a  compartment  among  the  book-shelves. 
"  The  first  question,  Mr.  Jermyn,  now  you  know 
my  intentions,  is,  whether  you  will  undertake  to  be 
my  agent  in  this  election,  and  help  me  through  ? 
There 's  no  time  to  be  lost,  and  I  don't  want  to  lose 
my  chance,  as  I  may  not  have  another  for  seven 
years.  I  understand,"  he  went  on,  flashing  a  look 
straight  at  Jermyn,  "  that  you  have  not  taken  any 
conspicuous  course  in  politics ;  and  I  know  that 
Labron  is  agent  for  the  Debarrys." 

"  Oh  —  a  —  my  dear  sir  —  a  man  necessarily  has 
his  political  convictions,  but  of  what  use  is  it  for  a 
professional  man  —  a  —  of  some  education,  to  talk 
of  them  in  a  little  country  town  ?  There  really  is 
no  comprehension  of  public  questions  in  such  places. 
Party  feeling,  indeed,  was  quite  asleep  here  before 
the  agitation  about  the  Catholic  Eelief  Bill.     It  is 


56  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

true  that  I  concurred  with  our  incumbent  in  getting 
up  a  petition  against  the  Eeform  Bill,  but  I  did  not 
state  my  reasons.  The  weak  points  in  that  Bill  are 
—  a  —  too  palpable,  and  I  fancy  you  and  I  should 
not  differ  much  on  that  head.  The  fact  is,  when  I 
knew  that  you  were  to  come  back  to  us,  I  kept  my- 
self in  reserve,  though  I  was  much  pressed  by  the 
friends  of  Sir  James  Clement,  the  Ministerial  candi- 
date, who  is  —  " 

"  However,  you  will  act  for  me,  —  that 's  settled  ? " 
said  Harold. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Jermyn,  inwardly  irritated  by 
Harold's  rapid  manner  of  cutting  him  short. 

"  Which  of  the  Liberal  candidates,  as  they  call 
themselves,  has  the  better  chance,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  was  going  to  observe  that  Sir  James  Clement 
has  not  so  good  a  chance  as  Mr.  Garstin,  supposing 
that  a  third  Liberal  candidate  presents  himself. 
There  are  two  senses  in  which  a  politician  can  be 
liberal,"  —  here  Mr.  Jermyn  smiled,  —  "  Sir  James 
Clement  is  a  poor  baronet,  hoping  for  an  appoint- 
ment, and  can't  be  expected  to  be  liberal  in  that 
wider  sense  which  commands  majorities." 

"  I  wish  this  man  were  not  so  much  of  a  talker," 
thought  Harold  ;  "  he  '11  bore  me.  We  shall  see," 
he  said  aloud,  "  what  can  be  done  in  the  way  of 
combination.  I  '11  come  down  to  your  office  after 
one  o'clock  if  it  will  suit  you  ? " 

"Perfectly." 

"  Ah,  and  you  '11  have  all  the  lists  and  papers  and 
necessary  information  ready  for  me  there.  I  must 
get  up  a  dinner  for  the  tenants,  and  we  can  invite 
whom  we  like  besides  the  tenants.  Just  now, 
I'm  going  over  one  of  the  farms  on  hand  with 
the  bailiff.     By  the  way,  that 's  a  desperately  bad 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  5/ 

business,  having  three  farms  unlet,  —  how  comes 
that  about,  eh  ?  " 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  wanted  to  say  a  few 
words  about  to  you.  You  have  observed  already 
how  strongly  Mrs.  Transome  takes  certain  things  to 
heart.  You  can  imagine  that  she  has  been  severely 
tried  in  many  ways.  Mr.  Transome's  want  of  health ; 
Mr.  Durfey's  habits  —  a  —  " 

"  Yes,  yes." 

"  She  is  a  woman  for  whom  I  naturally  entertain 
the  highest  respect,  and  she  has  had  hardly  any 
gratification  for  many  years,  except  the  sense  of 
having  affairs  to  a  certain  extent  in  her  own  hands. 
She  objects  to  changes ;  she  will  not  have  a  new 
style  of  tenants  ;  she  likes  the  old  stock  of  farmers 
who  milk  their  own  cows,  and  send  their  younger 
daughters  out  to  service :  all  this  makes  it  difficult 
to  do  the  best  with  the  estate.  I  am  aware  things 
are  not  as  they  ought  to  be,  for,  in  point  of  fact,  an 
improved  agricultural  management  is  a  matter  in 
which  I  take  considerable  interest,  and  the  farm 
which  I  myself  hold  on  the  estate  you  will  see,  I 
think,  to  be  in  a  superior  condition.  But  Mrs. 
Transome  is  a  woman  of  strong  feeling,  and  I  would 
urge  you,  my  dear  sir,  to  make  the  changes  which 
you  have,  but  which  I  had  not,  the  right  to  insist 
on,  as  little  painful  to  her  as  possible." 

"  I  shall  know  what  to  do,  sir,  never  fear,"  said 
Harold,  much  offended. 

"  You  will  pardon,  I  hope,  a  perhaps  undue  free- 
dom of  suggestion  from  a  man  of  my  age,  who  has 
been  so  long  in  a  close  connection  with  the  family 
affairs  —  a  —  I  have  never  considered  that  connec- 
tion simply  in  the  light  of  business  —  a  —  " 

"  Damn  him,  I  '11  soon  let  him  know  that  /  do," 


58  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

thought  Harold.  But  in  proportion  as  he  found 
Jermyn's  manners  annoying,  he  felt  the  necessity 
of  controlling  himself.  He  despised  all  persons 
who  defeated  their  own  projects  by  the  indulgence 
of  momentary  impulses. 

"I  understand,  I  understand,"  he  said  aloud. 
"  You  've  had  more  awkward  business  on  your 
hands  than  usually  falls  to  the  share  of  a  family 
lawyer.  We  shall  set  everything  right  by  degrees. 
But  now  as  to  the  canvassing.  I  've  made  arrange- 
ments with  a  first-rate  man  in  London,  who  under- 
stands these  matters  thoroughly,  —  a  solicitor  of 
course,  —  he  has  carried  no  end  of  men  into  Parlia- 
ment. 1 11  engage  him  to  meet  us  at  Duffield  — 
say  when  ? " 

The  conversation  after  this  was  driven  carefully 
clear  of  all  angles,  and  ended  with  determined 
amicableness.  When  Harold,  in  his  ride  an  hour 
or  two  afterwards,  encountered  his  uncle  shoulder- 
ing a  gun,  and  followed  by  one  black  and  one  liver- 
spotted  pointer,  his  muscular  person  with  its  red 
eagle  face  set  off  by  a  velveteen  jacket  and  leather 
leggings,  Mr.  Lingon's  first  question  was,  — 

"  Well,  lad,  how  have  you  got  on  with  Jermyn  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  I  shall  like  the  fellow.  He 's 
a  sort  of  amateur  gentleman.  But  I  must  make  use 
of  him.  I  expect  whatever  I  get  out  of  him  will 
only  be  something  short  of  fair  pay  for  what  he  has 
got  out  of  us.     But  I  shall  see." 

"Ay,  ay,  use  his  gun  to  bring  down  your  game, 
and  after  that  beat  the  thief  with  the  butt-end. 
That 's  wisdom  and  justice  and  pleasure  all  in  one, 
—  talking  between  ourselves  as  uncle  and  nephew. 
But  I  say,  Harold,  I  was  going  to  tell  you,  now 
I  come  to  think  of  it,  this  is  rather  a  nasty  business, 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  59 

your  calling  yourself  a  Eadical.  I  've  been  turning 
it  over  in  after-dinner  speeches,  but  it  looks  awk- 
ward, —  it 's  not  what  people  are  used  to,  —  it 
wants  a  good  deal  of  Latin  to  make  it  go  down. 
I  shall  be  worried  about  it  at  the  sessions,  and  I 
can  think  of  nothing  neat  enough  to  carry  about 
in  my  pocket  by  way  of  answer." 

"Nonsense,  uncle  !  I  remember  what  a  good 
speechifier  you  always  were ;  you  '11  never  be  at  a 
loss.  You  only  want  a  few  more  evenings  to  think 
of  it." 

"  But  you  '11  not  be  attacking  the  Church  and  the 
institutions  of  the  country,  —  you  '11  not  be  going 
those  lengths ;  you  '11  keep  up  the  bulwarks,  and 
so  on,  eh  ? " 

"No,  I  sha'n't  attack  the  Church,  only  the  in- 
comes of  the  bishops,  perhaps,  to  make  them  eke 
out  the  incomes  of  the  poor  clergy." 

"Well,  well,  I  have  no  objection  to  that.  No- 
body likes  our  Bishop  :  he  's  all  Greek  and  greedi- 
ness ;  too  proud  to  dine  with  his  own  father.  You 
may  pepper  the  bishops  a  little.  But  you'll  re- 
spect the  Constitution  handed  down,  etc.,  —  and 
you  '11  rally  round  the  throne,  —  and  the  King,  God 
bless  him,  and  the  usual  toasts,  eh  ?  " 

"  Of  course,  of  course.  I  'm  a  Eadical  only  in 
rooting  out  abuses." 

"  That 's  the  word  I  wanted,  my  lad ! "  said  the 
Vicar,  slapping  Harold's  knee.  "  That 's  a  spool 
to  wind  a  speech  on.  '  Abuses '  is  the  very  word  ; 
and  if  anybody  shows  himself  offended,  he  '11  put 
the  cap  on  for  himself." 

"  I  remove  the  rotten  timbers,"  said  Harold,  in- 
wardly amused,  "and  substitute  fresh  oak,  that's 
alL" 


60  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Well  done,  my  boy  !  By  George,  you  '11  be  a 
speaker !  But  I  say,  Harold,  I  hope  you  've  got 
a  little  Latin  left.  This  young  Debarry  is  a  tremen- 
dous fellow  at  the  classics,  and  walks  on  stilts  to 
any  length.  He 's  one  of  the  new  Conservatives. 
Old  Sir  Maximus  does  n't  understand  him  at  all." 

"  That  won't  do  at  the  hustings,"  said  Harold. 
"  He  '11  get  knocked  off  his  stilts  pretty  quickly 
there." 

"  Bless  me  !  it 's  astonishing  how  well  you  're  up 
in  the  affairs  of  the  country,  my  boy.  But  rub  up  a 
few  quotations,  — '  Quod  turpe  bonis  decebat  Cris- 
pinum,'  —  and  that  sort  of  thing,  —  just  to  show 
Debarry  what  you  could  do  if  you  liked.  But  you 
want  to  ride  on  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  have  an  appointment  at  Treby.     Good- 

"He's  a  cleverish  chap,"  muttered  the  Vicar,  as 
Harold  rode  away.  "  When  he 's  had  plenty  of 
English  exercise,  and  brought  out  his  knuckle  a  bit, 
he  11  be  a  Lingon  again  as  he  used  to  be.  I  must 
go  and  see  how  Arabella  takes  his  being  a  Radical. 
It 's  a  little  awkward  ;  but  a  clergyman  must  keep 
peace  in  a  family.  Confound  it !  I  'm  not  bound 
to  love  Toryism  better  than  my  own  flesh  and 
blood,  and  the  manor  I  shoot  over.  That's  a 
heathenish,  Brutus-like  sort  of  thing,  as  if  Provi- 
dence could  n't  take  care  of  the  country  without 
my  quarrelling  with  my  own  sister's  son ! " 


CHAPTER   III. 

T  was  town,  yet  country  too ;  you  felt  the  warmth 
Of  clustering  houses  in  the  wintry  time  ; 
Supped  with  a  friend,  and  went  by  lantern  home. 
Yet  from  your  chamber  window  you  could  hear 
The  tiuy  bleat  of  new-yeaned  lambs,  or  see 
The  children  bend  beside  the  hedgerow  banks 
To  pluck  the  primroses. 

Treby  Magna,  on  which  the  Eeform  Bill  had 
thrust  the  new  honour  of  being  a  polling-place, 
had  been,  at  the  beginning  of  the  century,  quite  a 
typical  old  market-town,  lying  in  pleasant  sleepi- 
ness among  green  pastures,  with  a  rush-fringed 
river  meandering  through  them.  Its  principal 
street  had  various  handsome  and  tall-windowed 
brick  houses  with  walled  gardens  behind  them ; 
and  at  the  end,  where  it  widened  into  the  market- 
place, there  was  the  cheerful  rough-stuccoed  front 
of  that  excellent  inn,  the  Marquis  of  Granby, 
where  the  farmers  put  up  their  gigs,  not  only  on 
fair  and  market  days,  but  on  exceptional  Sundays 
when  they  came  to  church.  And  the  church  was 
one  of  those  fine  old  English  structures  worth  trav- 
elling to  see,  standing  in  a  broad  churchyard  with 
a  line  of  solemn  yew-trees  beside  it,  and  lifting  a 
majestic  tower  and  spire  far  above  the  red-and- 
purple  roofs  of  the  town.  It  was  not  large,  enough 
to  hold  all  the  parishioners  of  a  parish  which 
stretched  over  distant  villages  and  hamlets;  but 
then  they  were  never  so  unreasonable  as  to  wish 


62  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

to  be  all  in  at  once,  and  had  never  complained  that 
the  space  of  a  large  side-chapel  was  taken  up  by 
the  tombs  of  the  Debarrys,  and  shut  in  by  a  hand- 
some iron  screen.  For  when  the  black  Benedictines 
ceased  to  pray  and  chant  in  this  church,  when  the 
Blessed  Virgin  and  Saint  Gregory  were  expelled,  the 
Debarrys,  as  lords  of  the  manor,  naturally  came  next 
to  Providence  and  took  the  place  of  the  saints.  Long 
before  that  time,  indeed,  there  had  been  a  Sir  Maxi- 
mus  Debarry  who  had  been  at  the  fortifying  of  the 
old  castle,  which  now  stood  in  ruins  in  the  midst 
of  the  green  pastures,  and  with  its  sheltering  wall 
towards  the  north  made  an  excellent  straw-yard  for 
the  pigs  of  Wace  &  Co.,  brewers  of  the  celebrated 
Treby  beer.  Wace  &  Co.  did  not  stand  alone  in  the 
town  as  prosperous  traders  on  a  large  scale,  to  say 
nothing  of  those  who  had  retired  from  business ; 
and  in  no  country  town  of  the  same  small  size  as 
Treby  was  there  a  larger  proportion  of  families  who 
had  handsome  sets  of  china  without  handles,  heredi- 
tary punch-bowls,  and  large  silver  ladles  with  a 
Queen  Anne's  guinea  in  the  centre.  Such  people 
naturally  took  tea  and  supped  together  frequently  ; 
and  as  there  was  no  professional  man  or  tradesman 
in  Treby  who  was  not  connected  by  business,  if  not 
by  blood,  with. the  farmers  of  the  district,  the  richer 
sort  of  these  were  much  invited,  and  gave  invita- 
tions in  their  turn.  They  played  at  whist,  ate  and 
drank  generously,  praised  Mr.  Pitt  and  the  war  as 
keeping  up  prices  and  religion,  and  were  very  hu- 
morous about  each  other's  property,  having  much 
the  same  coy  pleasure  in  allusions  to  their  secret 
ability  to  purchase,  as  blushing  lasses  sometimes  have 
in  jokes  about  their  secret  preferences.  The  Kector 
was  always  of  the  Debarry  family,  associated  only 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  63 

with  county  people,  and  was  much  respected  for 
his  affability ;  a  clergyman  who  would  have  taken 
tea  with  the  townspeople  would  have  given  a  dan- 
gerous shock  to  the  mind  of  a  Treby  Churchman. 

Such  was  the  old-fashioned,  grazing,  brewing, 
wool-packing,  cheese-loading  life  of  Treby  Magna, 
until  there  befell  new  conditions,  complicating  its 
relation  with  the  rest  of  the  world,  and  gradually 
awakening  in  it  that  higher  consciousness  which  is 
known  to  bring  higher  pains.  First  came  the  canal ; 
next,  the  working  of  the  coal-mines  at  Sproxton, 
two  miles  off  the  town ;  and  thirdly,  the  discovery 
of  a  saline  spring,  which  suggested  to  a  too  con- 
structive brain  the  possibility  of  turning  Treby 
Magna  into  a  fashionable  watering-place.  So  daring 
an  idea  was  not  originated  by  a  native  Trebian,  but 
by  a  young  lawyer  who  came  from  a  distance,  knew 
the  dictionary  by  heart,  and  was  probably  an  ille- 
gitimate son  of  somebody  or  other.  The  idea,  al- 
though it  promised  an  increase  of  wealth  to  the 
town,  was  not  well  received  at  first;  ladies  ob- 
jected to  seeing  "objects"  drawn  about  in  hand- 
carriages,  the  doctor  foresaw  the  advent  of  unsound 
practitioners,  and  most  retail  tradesmen  concurred 
with  him  that  new  doings  were  usually  for  the  ad- 
vantage of  new  people.  The  more  unanswerable 
reasoners  urged  that  Treby  had  prospered  without 
baths,  and  it  was  yet  to  be  seen  how  it  would  pros- 
per with  them ;  while  a  report  that  the  proposed 
name  for  them  was  Bethesda  Spa,  threatened  to 
give  the  whole  affair  a  blasphemous  aspect.  Even 
Sir  Maximus  Debarry,  who  was  to  have  an  unpre- 
cedented return  for  the  thousands  he  would  lay  out 
on  a  pump-room  and  hotel,  regarded  the  thing  as  a 
little  too  new,  and  held  back  for  some  time.     But 


64  EELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

the  persuasive  powers  of  the  young  lawyer,  Mr. 
Matthew  Jermyn,  together  with  the  opportune 
opening  of  a  stone-quarry,  triumphed  at  last;  the 
handsome  buildings  were  erected,  an  excellent 
guide-book  and  descriptive  cards,  surmounted  by 
vignettes,  were  printed,  and  -Treby  Magna  became 
conscious  of  certain  facts  in  its  own  history  of  which 
it  had  previously  been  in  contented  ignorance. 

But  it  was  all  in  vain.  The  Spa,  from  some 
mysterious  reason,  did  not  succeed.  Some  attrib- 
uted the  failure  to  the  coal-mines  and  the  canal ; 
others  to  the  peace,  which  had  had  ruinous  effects 
on  the  country  ;  and  others,  who  disliked  Jermyn, 
to  the  original  folly  of  the  plan.  Among  these 
last  was  Sir  Maximus  himself,  who  never  forgave 
the  too  persuasive  attorney ;  it  was  Jermyn's  fault 
not  only  that  a  useless  hotel  had  been  built,  but 
that  he,  Sir  Maximus,  being  straitened  for  money, 
had  at  last  let  the  building,  with  the  adjacent  land 
lying  on  the  river,  on  a  long  lease,  on  the  supposi- 
tion that  it  was  to  be  turned  into  a  benevolent 
college,  and  had  seen  himself  subsequently  power- 
less to  prevent  its  being  turned  into  a  tape  manu- 
factory, —  a  bitter  thing  to  any  gentleman,  and 
especially  to  the  representative  of  one  of  the  oldest 
families  in  England. 

In  this  way  it  happened  that  Treby  Magna 
gradually  passed  from  being  simply  a  respectable 
market-town,  —  the  heart  of  a  great  rural  district, 
where  the  trade  was  only  such  as  had  close  rela- 
tions with  the  local  landed  interest,  —  and  took  on 
the  more  complex  life  brought  by  mines  and  manu- 
factures, which  belong  more  directly  to  the  great 
circulating  system  of  the  nation  than  to  the  local 
system  to  which  they  have  been  superadded ;  and 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  65 

in  this  way  it  was  that  Trebian  Dissent  gradually 
altered  its  character.  Formerly  it  had  been  of  a 
quiescent,  well-to-do  kind,  represented  architectur- 
ally by  a  small,  venerable,  dark-pewed  chapel,  built 
by  Presbyterians,  but  long  occupied  by  a  sparse 
congregation  of  Independents,  who  were  as  little 
moved  by  doctrinal  zeal  as  their  church-going 
neighbours,  and  did  not  feel  themselves  deficient 
in  religious  liberty,  inasmuch  as  they  were  not 
hindered  from  occasionally  slumbering  in  their 
pews,  and  were  not  obliged  to  go  regularly  to  the 
weekly  prayer-meeting.  But  when  stone-pits  and 
coal-pits  made  new  hamlets  that  threatened  to 
spread  up  to  the  very  town,  when  the  tape-weavers 
came  with  their  news-reading  inspectors  and  book- 
keepers, the  Independent  chapel  began  to  be  filled 
with  eager  men  and  women,  to  whom  the  excep- 
tional possession  of  religious  truth  was  the  condi- 
tion which  reconciled  them  to  a  meagre  existence, 
and  made  them  feel  in  secure  alliance  with  the 
unseen  but  supreme  rule  of  a  world  in  which  their 
own  visible  part  was  small.  There  were  Dissenters 
in  Treby  now  who  could  not  be  regarded  by  the 
Church  people  in  the  light  of  old  neighbours  to 
whom  the  habit  of  going  to  chapel  was  an  innocent, 
unenviable  inheritance  along  with  a  particular 
house  and  garden,  a  tanyard,  or  a  grocery  business, 
—  Dissenters  who  in  their  turn,  without  meaning 
to  be  in  the  least  abusive,  spoke  of  the  high-bred 
Sector  as  a  blind  leader  of  the  blind.  And  Dissent 
was  not  the  only  thing  that  the  times  had  altered ; 
prices  had  fallen,  poor-rates  had  risen,  rent  and 
tithe  were  not  elastic  enough,  and  the  farmer's  fat 
sorrow  had  become  lean ;  he  began  to  speculate  on 
causes,  and  to  trace  things  back  to  that  causeless 

VOL.  I.  —  5 


66  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

mystery,  the  cessation  of  one-pound  notes.  Thus, 
when  political  agitation  swept  in  a  great  current 
through  the  country,  Treby  Magna  was  prepared  to 
vibrate.  The  Catholic  Emancipation  Bill  opened 
the  eyes  of  neighbours,  and  made  them  aware  how 
very  injurious  they  were  to  each  other  and  to  the 
welfare  of  mankind  generally.  Mr.  Tiliot,  the 
Church  spirit-merchant,  knew  now  that  Mr.  Nutt- 
wood,  the  obliging  grocer,  was  one  of  those  Dis- 
senters, Deists,  Socinians,  Papists,  and  Radicals, 
who  were  in  league  to  destroy  the  Constitution.  A 
retired  old  London  tradesman,  who  was  believed  to 
understand  politics,  said  that  thinking  people  must 
wish  George  the  Third  alive  again  in  all  his  early 
vigour  of  mind ;  and  even  the  farmers  became  less 
materialistic  in  their  view  of  causes,  and  referred 
much  to  the  agency  of  the  devil  and  the  Irish 
Eomans.  The  Eector,  the  Eev.  Augustus  Debarry, 
really  a  fine  specimen  of  the  old-fashioned  aristo- 
cratic clergyman,  preaching  short  sermons,  under- 
standing business,  and  acting  liberally  about  his 
tithe,  had  never  before  found  himself  in  collision 
with  Dissenters ;  but  now  he  began  to  feel  that 
these  people  were  a  nuisance  in  the  parish,  that  his 
brother  Sir  Maximus  must  take  care  lest  they 
should  get  land  to  build  more  chapels,  and  that  it 
might  not  have  been  a  bad  thing  if  the  law  had 
furnished  him  as  a  magistrate  with  a  power  of 
putting  a  stop  to  the  political  sermons  of  the  In- 
dependent preacher,  which  in  their  way  were  as 
pernicious  sources  of  intoxication  as  the  beerhouses. 
The  Dissenters,  on  their  side,  were  not  disposed  to 
sacrifice  the  cause  of  truth  and  freedom  to  a  tem- 
porizing mildness  of  language ;  but  they  defended 
themselves  from  the  charge  of  religious  indifference, 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  67 

and  solemnly  disclaimed  any  lax  expectations  that 
Catholics  were  likely  to  be  saved,  —  urging,  on  the 
contrary,  that  they  were  not  too  hopeful  about 
Protestants  who  adhered  to  a  bloated  and  worldly 
Prelacy.  Thus  Treby  Magna,  which  had  lived 
quietly  through  the  great  earthquakes  of  the 
French  Revolution  and  the  Napoleonic  wars,  which 
had  remained  unmoved  by  the  "Eights  of  Man," 
and  saw  little  in  Mr.  Cobbett's  "  Weekly  Register  " 
except  that  he  held  eccentric  views  about  potatoes, 
began  at  last  to  know  the  higher  pains  of  a  dim 
political  consciousness  ;  and  the  development  had 
been  greatly  helped  by  the  recent  agitation  about 
the  Reform  bill.  Tory,  Whig,  and  Radical  did  not 
perhaps  become  clearer  in  their  definition  of  each 
other ;  but  the  names  seemed  to  acquire  so  strong 
a  stamp  of  honour  or  infamy,  that  definitions  would 
only  have  weakened  the  impression.  As  to  the 
short  and  easy  method  of  judging  opinions  by  the 
personal  character  of  those  who  held  them,  it  was 
liable  to  be  much  frustrated  in  Treby.  It  so  hap- 
pened in  that  particular  town  that  the  Reformers 
were  not  all  of  them  large-hearted  patriots  or  ardent 
lovers  of  justice ;  indeed,  one  of  them,  in  the  very 
midst  of  the  agitation,  was  detected  in  using  un- 
equal scales,  —  a  fact  to  which  many  Tories  pointed 
with  disgust  as  showing  plainly  enough,  without 
further  argument,  that  the  cry  for  a  change  in  the 
representative  system  was  hollow  trickery.  Again, 
the  Tories  were  far  from  being  all  oppressors,  dis- 
posed to  grind  down  the  working  classes  into  serf- 
dom ;  and  it  was  undeniable  that  the  inspector  at 
the  tape  manufactory,  who  spoke  with  much  elo- 
quence on  the  extension  of  the  suffrage,  was  a  more 
tyrannical  personage  than  open-handed  Mr.  Wace, 


68  TELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

whose  chief  political  tenet  was  that  it  was  all 
nonsense  giving  men  votes  when  they  had  no  stake 
in  the  country.  On  the  other  hand,  there  were 
some  Tories  who  gave  themselves  a  great  deal  of 
leisure  to  abuse  hypocrites,  Eadicals,  Dissenters, 
and  atheism  generally,  but  whose  inflamed  faces, 
theistic  swearing,  and  frankness  in  expressing  a 
wish  to  borrow,  certainly  did  not  mark  them  out 
strongly  as  holding  opinions  likely  to  save  society. 

The  Reformers  had  triumphed  ;  it  was  clear  that 
the  wheels  were  going  whither  they  were  pulling, 
and  they  were  in  fine  spirits  for  exertion.  But  if 
they  were  pulling  towards  the  country's  ruin,  there 
was  the  more  need  for  others  to  hang  on  behind 
and  get  the  wheels  to  stick  if  possible.  In  Treby,  as 
elsewhere,  people  were  told  they  must  "  rally  "  at 
the  coming  election  ;  but  there  was  now  a  large 
number  of  waverers,  —  men  of  flexible,  practical 
minds,  who  were  not  such  bigots  as  to  cling  to  any 
views  when  a  good  tangible  reason  could  be  urged 
against  them  ;  while  some  regarded  it  as  the  most 
neighbourly  thing  to,  hold  a  little  with  both  sides, 
and  were  not  sure  that  they  should  rally  or  vote 
at  all.  It  seemed  an  invidious  thing  to  vote  for  one 
gentleman  rather  than  another. 

These  social  changes  in  Treby  parish  are  compar- 
atively public  matters,  and  this  history  is  chiefly 
concerned  with  the  private  lot  of  a  few  men  and 
women ;  but  there  is  no  private  life  which  has  not 
been  determined  by  a  wider  public  life,  from  the 
time  when  the  primeval  milkmaid  had  to  wander 
with  the  wanderings  of  her  clan,  because  the  cow 
she  milked  was  one  of  a  herd  which  had  made  the 
pastures  bare.  Even  in  that  conservatory  existence 
where  the  fair  Camellia  is  sighed  for  by  the  noble 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  69 

young  Pine-apple,  neither  of  them  needing  to  care 
about  the  frost  or  rain  outside,  there  is  a  nether 
apparatus  of  hot-water  pipes  liable  to  cool  down  on 
a  strike  of  the  gardeners  or  a  scarcity  of  coal.  And 
the  lives  we  are  about  to  look  back  upon  do  not 
belong  to  those  conservatory  species ;  they  are 
rooted  in  the  common  earth,  having  to  endure  all 
the  ordinary  chances  of  past  and  present  weather. 
As  to  the  weather  of  1832,  the  Zadkiel  of  that  time 
had  predicted  that  the  electrical  condition  of  the 
clouds  in  the  political  hemisphere  would  produce 
unusual  perturbations  in  organic  existence,  and  he 
would  perhaps  have  seen  a  fulfilment  of  his  remark- 
able prophecy  in  that  mutual  influence  of  dissimilar 
destinies  which  we  shall  see  gradually  unfolding 
itself.  For  if  the  mixed  political  conditions  of 
Treby  Magna  had  not  been  acted  on  by  the  passing 
of  the  Eeform  Bill,  Mr.  Harold  Transome  would  not 
have  presented  himself  as  a  candidate  for  North 
Loamshire,  Treby  would  not  have  been  a  polling- 
place,  Mr.  Matthew  Jermyn  would  not  have  been  on 
affable  terms  with  a  Dissenting  preacher  and  his 
flock,  and  the  venerable  town  would  not  have  been 
placarded  with  handbills,  more  or  less  compliment- 
ary and  retrospective,- — conditions  in  this  case 
essential  to  the  "  where  "  and  the  "  what,"  without 
which,  as  the  learned  know,  there  can  be  no  event 
whatever. 

For  example,  it  was  through  these  conditions  that 
a  young  man  named  Felix  Holt  made  a  considerable 
difference  in  the  life  of  Harold  Transome,  though 
nature  and  fortune  seemed  to  have  done  what  they 
could  to  keep  the  lots  of  the  two  men  quite  aloof 
from  each  other.  Felix  was  heir  to  nothing  better 
than  a  quack  medicine ;  his  mother  lived  up  a  back 


70  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

street  in  Treby  Magna,  and  her  sitting-room  was 
ornamented  with  her  best  tea-tray  and  several 
framed  testimonials  to  the  virtues  of  Holt's  Cathar- 
tic Lozenges  and  Holt's  Restorative  Elixir.  There 
could  hardly  have  been  a  lot  less  like  Harold  Tran- 
some's  than  this  of  the  quack  doctor's  son,  except  in 
the  superficial  facts  that  he  called  himself  a  Radical, 
that  he  was  the  only  son  of  his  mother,  and  that  he 
had  lately  returned  to  his  home  with  ideas  and 
resolves  not  a  little  disturbing  to  that  mother's 
mind. 

But  Mrs.  Holt,  unlike  Mrs.  Transome,  was  much 
disposed  to  reveal  her  troubles,  and  was  not  with- 
out a  counsellor  into  whose  ear  she  could  pour 
them.  On  this  2d  of  September,  when  Mr.  Harold 
Transome  had  had  his  first  interview  with  Jermyn, 
and  when  the  attorney  went  back  to  his  office  with 
new  views  of  canvassing  in  his  mind,  Mrs.  Holt  had 
put  on  her  bonnet  as  early  as  nine  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  had  gone  to  see  the  Rev.  Rufus  Lyon, 
minister  of  the  Independent  Chapel  usually  spoken 
of  as  "  Malthouse  Yard." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A  pious  and  painful  preacher.  —  Fuller. 

Mr.  Lyon  lived  in  a  small  house,  not  quite  so  good 
as  the  parish  clerk's,  adjoining  the  entry  which  led 
to  the  Chapel  Yard.  The  new  prosperity  of  Dissent 
at  Treby  had  led  to  an  enlargement  of  the  chapel, 
which  absorbed  all  extra  funds  and  left  none  for 
the  enlargement  of  the  minister's  income.  He  sat 
this  morning,  as  usual,  in  a  low  upstairs  room, 
called  his  study,  which,  by  means  of  a  closet  capable 
of  holding  his  bed,  served  also  as  a  sleeping-room. 
The  book-shelves  did  not  suffice  for  his  store  of  old 
books,  which  lay  about  him  in  piles  so  arranged  as 
to  leave  narrow  lanes  between  them ;  for  the  min- 
ister was  much  given  to  walking  about  during  his 
hours  of  meditation,  and  very  narrow  passages 
would  serve  for  his  small  legs,  unencumbered  by  any 
other  drapery  than  his  black  silk  stockings  and  the 
flexible  though  prominent  bows  of  black  ribbon  that 
tied  his  knee-breeches.  He  was  walking  about  now, 
with  his  hands  clasped  behind  him,  —  an  attitude 
in  which  his  body  seemed  to  bear  about  the  same 
proportion  to  his  head  as  the  lower  part  of  a  stone 
Hermes  bears  to  the  carven  image  that  crowns  it. 
His  face  looked  old  and  worn,  yet  the  curtain  of 
hair  that  fell  from  his  bald  crown  and  hung  about 
his  neck  retained  much  of  its  original  auburn  tint, 
and  his  large,  brown,  short-sighted  eyes  were  still 


72  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

clear  and  bright.  At  the  first  glance  every  one 
thought  him  a  very  odd-looking,  rusty  old  man ; 
the  free-school  boys  often  hooted  after  him,  and 
called  him  "  Eevelations  ; "  and  to  many  respectable 
Church  people  old  Lyon's  little  legs  and  large  head 
seemed  to  make  Dissent  additionally  preposterous. 
But  he  was  too  short-sighted  to  notice  those  who 
tittered  at  him,  —  too  absent  from  the  world  of 
small  facts  and  petty  impulses  in  which  titterers 
live.  With  Satan  to  argue  against  on  matters  of 
vital  experience  as  well  as  of  church  government, 
with  great  texts  to  meditate  on,  which  seemed  to 
get  deeper  as  he  tried  to  fathom  them,  it  had  never 
occurred  to  him  to  reflect  what  sort  of  image  his 
small  person  made  on  the  retina  of  a  light-minded 
beholder.  The  good  Eufus  had  his  ire  and  his 
egoism;  but  they  existed  only  as  the  red  heat 
which  gave  force  to  his  belief  and  his  teaching. 
He  was  susceptible  concerning  the  true  office  of 
deacons  in  the  primitive  Church,  and  his  small  ner- 
vous body  was  jarred  from  head  to  foot  by  the  con- 
cussion of  an  argument  to  which  he  saw  no  answer. 
In  fact,  the  only  moments  when  he  could  be  said 
to  be  really  conscious  of  his  body  were  when 
he  trembled  under  the  pressure  of  some  agitating 
thought. 

He  was  meditating  on  the  text  for  his  Sunday 
morning  sermon,  "And  all  the  people  said,  Amen," 
—  a  mere  mustard-seed  of  a  text,  which  had  split  at 
first  only  into  two  divisions,  "  What  was  said,"  and 
"  Who  said  it ; "  but  these  were  growing  into  a 
many-branched  discourse,  and  the  preacher's  eyes 
dilated,  and  a  smile  played  about  his  mouth  till,  as 
his  manner  was,  when  he  felt  happily  inspired,  he 
had  begun  to  utter  his  thoughts  aloud  in  the  varied 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  73 

measure  and  cadence  habitual  to  him,  changing 
from  a  rapid  but  distinct  undertone  to  a  loud,  em- 
phatic rallentando. 

"  My  brethren,  do  you  think  that  great  shout  was 
raised  in  Israel  by  each  man's  waiting  to  say  amen 
till  his  neighbours  had  said  amen  ?  Do  you  think 
there  will  ever  be  a  great  shout  for  the  right  —  the 
shout  of  a  nation  as  of  one  man,  rounded  and  whole, 
like  the  voice  of  the  archangel  that  bound  together 
all  the  listeners  of  earth  and  heaven  —  if  every 
Christian  of  you  peeps  round  to  see  what  his  neigh- 
bours in  good  coats  are  doing,  or  else  puts  his  hat 
before  his  face  that  he  may  shout  and  never  be 
heard  ?  But  this  is  what  you  do :  when  the  servant 
of  God  stands  up  to  deliver  his  message,  do  you  lay 
your  souls  beneath  the  Word  as  you  set  out  your 
plants  beneath  the  falling  rain  ?  No ;  one  of  you 
sends  his  eyes  to  all  corners,  he  smothers  his  soul 
with  small  questions, '  What  does  brother  Y.  think  ? ' 
'  Is  this  doctrine  high  enough  for  brother  Z.  ? ' 
'  Will  the  church  members  be  pleased  ? '  And 
another  —  " 

Here  the  door  was  opened ;  and  old  Lyddy,  the 
minister's  servant,  put  in  her  head  to  say,  in  a  tone 
of  despondency,  finishing  with  a  groan,  "Here  is 
Mrs.  Holt  wanting  to  speak  to  you ;  she  says  she 
comes  out  of  season,  but  she 's  in  trouble." 

"Lyddy,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  falling  at  once  into  a 
quiet  conversational  tone,  "  if  you  are  wrestling  with 
the  enemy,  let  me  refer  you  to  Ezekiel  the  thirteenth 
and  twenty-second,  and  beg  of  you  not  to  groan.  It 
is  a  stumbling-block  and  offence  to  my  daughter; 
she  would  take  no  broth  yesterday,  because  she  said 
you  had  cried  into  it.  Thus  you  cause  the  truth  to  be 
lightly  spoken  of,  and  make  the  enemy  rejoice.     If 


74  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

your  face-ache  gives  him  an  advantage,  take  a  little 
warm  ale  with  your  meat,  —  I  do  not  grudge  the 
money." 

"  If  I  thought  my  drinking  warm  ale  would 
hinder  poor  dear  Miss  Esther  from  speaking  light,  — 
but  she  hates  the  smell  of  it." 

"  Answer  not  again,  Lyddy,  but  send  up  Mistress 
Holt  to  me." 

Lyddy  closed  the  door  immediately. 

"I  lack  grace  to  deal  with  these  weak  sisters," 
said  the  minister,  again  thinking  aloud,  and  walk- 
ing. "  Their  needs  lie  too  much  out  of  the  track  of 
my  meditations,  and  take  me  often  unawares.  Mis- 
tress Holt  is  another  who  darkens  counsel  by  words 
without  knowledge,  and  angers  the  reason  of  the 
natural  man.  Lord,  give  me  patience.  My  sins 
were  heavier  to  bear  than  this  woman's  folly.  Come 
in,  Mrs.  Holt,  —  come  in." 

He  hastened  to  disencumber  a  chair  of  Matthew 
Henry's  Commentary,  and  begged  his  visitor  to  be 
seated.  She  was  a  tall  elderly  woman,  dressed  in 
black,  with  a  light-brown  front  and  a  black  band 
over  her  forehead.  She  moved  the  chair  a  little, 
and  seated  herself  in  it  with  some  emphasis,  looking 
fixedly  at  the  opposite  wall  with  a  hurt  and  argu- 
mentative expression.  Mr.  Lyon  had  placed  him- 
self in  the  chair  against  his  desk,  and  waited  with 
the  resolute  resignation  of  a  patient  who  is  about 
to  undergo  an  operation.  But  his  visitor  did  not 
speak. 

"  You  have  something  on  your  mind,  Mrs.  Holt  ? " 
he  said,  at  last. 

"  Indeed  I  have,  sir,  else  I  should  n't  be  here." 

"  Speak  freely." 

"  It 's  well  known  to  you,  Mr.  Lyon,  that   my 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  75 

husband,  Mr.  Holt,  came  from  the  north,  and  was 
a  member  in  Malthouse  Yard  long  before  you  began 
to  be  pastor  of  it,  which  was  seven  year  ago  last 
Michaelmas.  It 's  the  truth,  Mr.  Lyon,  and  I  'in 
not  that  woman  to  sit  here  and  say  it  if  it  was  n't 
true." 

"  Certainly,  it  is  true." 

u  And  if  my  husband  had  been  alive  when  you  'd 
come  to  preach  upon  trial,  he  'd  have  been  as  good 
a  judge  of  your  gifts  as  Mr.  Nuttwood  or  Mr.  Mus- 
cat, though  whether  he  'd  have  agreed  with  some 
that  your  doctrine  was  n't  high  enough,  I  can't  say. 
For  myself,  I  've  my  opinion  about  high  doctrine." 

"  Was  it  my  preaching  you  came  to  speak  about  ? " 
said  the  minister,  hurrying  in  the  question. 

"  No,  Mr.  Lyon,  I  'm  not  that  woman.  But  this 
I  will  say,  for  my  husband  died  before  your  time, 
that  he  had  a  wonderful  gift  in  prayer,  as  the  old 
members  well  know,  if  anybody  likes  to  ask  'em, 
not  believing  my  words;  and  he  believed  himself 
that  the  receipt  for  the  Cancer  Cure,  which  I've 
sent  out  in  bottles  till  this  very  last  April  before 
September  as  now  is,  and  have  bottles  standing  by 
me,  —  he  believed  it  was  sent  to  him  in  answer  to 
prayer ;  and  nobody  can  deny  it,  for  he  prayed 
most  regular,  and  read  out  of  the  green  baize  Bible." 

Mrs.  Holt  paused,  appearing  to  think  that  Mr. 
Lyon  had  been  successfully  confuted,  and  should 
show  himself  convinced. 

,  "Has  any  one  been  aspersing  your  husband's 
character  ? "  said  Mr.  Lyon,  with  a  slight  initiative 
towards  that  relief  of  groaning  for  which  he  had 
reproved  Lyddy. 

"  Sir,  they  dared  n't.  For  though  he  was  a  man 
of  prayer,  he  did  n't  want  skill  and  knowledge  to 


76  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

find  things  out  for  himself;  and  that  was  what  I 
used  to  say  to  my  friends  when  they  wondered  at 
my  marrying  a  man  from  Lancashire,  with  no  trade 
nor  fortune  but  what  he'd  got  in  his  head.  But 
my  husband's  tongue  'ud  have  been  a  fortune  to 
anybody,  and  there  was  many  a  one  said  it  was  as 
good  as  a  dose  of  physic  to  hear  him  talk ;  not  but 
what  that  got  him  into  trouble  in  Lancashire,  but 
he  always  said,  if  the  worst  came  to  the  worst,  he 
could  go  and  preach  to  the  blacks.  But  he  did  bet- 
ter than  that,  Mr.  Lyon,  for  he  married  me ;  and 
this  I  will  say,  that  for  age  and  conduct  and 
managing  —  " 

"  Mistress  Holt,"  interrupted  the  minister,  "  these 
are  not  the  things  whereby  we  may  edify  one 
another.  Let  me  beg  of  you  to  be  as  brief  as  you 
can.     My  time  is  not  my  own." 

"Well,  Mr.  Lyon,  I've  a  right  to  speak  to  my 
own  character ;  and  I  'm  one  of  your  congregation, 
though  I  'm  not  a  church  member,  for  I  was  born 
in  the  General  Baptist  connection :  and  as  for  being 
saved  without  works,  there  's  a  many,  I  dare  say, 
can't  do  without  that  doctrine ;  but  I  thank  the 
Lord  I  never  needed  to  put  myself  on  a  level  with 
the  thief  on  the  cross.  l*'ve  done  my  duty,  and 
more,  if  anybody  comes  to  that ;  for  I  've  gone 
without  my  bit  of  meat  to  make  broth  for  a  sick 
neighbour ;  and  if  there 's  any  of  the  church  mem- 
bers say  they  've  done  the  same,  I  'd  ask  them  if 
they  had  the  sinking  at  the  stomach  as  I  have ;  for 
I  've  ever  strove  to  do  the  right  thing,  and  more,  for 
good-natured  I  always  was  ;  and  I  little  thought, 
after  being  respected  by  everybody,  I  should  come 
to  be  reproached  by  my  own  son.  And  my  hus- 
band said,  when  he  was  a-dying,  — '  Mary,'  he  said, 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  77 

'the  Elixir  and  the  Pills  and  the  Cure  will  support 
you,  for  they've  a  great  name  in  all  the  country- 
round,  and  you'll  pray  for  a  blessing  on  them.' 
And  so  I  have  done,  Mr.  Lyon  ;  and  to  say  they  're 
not  good  medicines,  when  they  've  been  taken  for 
fifty  miles  round  by  high  and  low  and  rich  and 
poor,  and  nobody  speaking  against  'em  but  Dr. 
Lukin,  it  seems  to  me  it's  a-flying  in  the  face  of 
Heaven ;  for  if  it  was  wrong  to  take  the  medicines, 
could  n't  the  blessed  Lord  have  stopped  it  ?  " 

Mrs.  Holt  was  not  given  to  tears ;  she  was  much 
sustained  by  conscious  unimpeachableness,  and  by 
an  argumentative  tendency  which  usually  checks 
the  too  great  activity  of  the  lachrymal  gland ;  never- 
theless her  eyes  had  become  moist,  her  fingers 
played  on  her  knee  in  an  agitated  manner,  and  she 
finally  plucked  a  bit  of  her  gown  and  held  it  with 
great  nicety  between  her  thumb  and  finger.  Mr. 
Lyon,  however,  by  listening  attentively,  had  begun 
partly  to  divine  the  source  of  her  trouble. 

"  Am  I  wrong  in  gathering  from  what  you  say,  Mis- 
tress Holt,  that  your  son  has  objected  in  some  way 
to  your  sale  of  your  late  husband's  medicines  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Lyon,  he 's  masterful  beyond  everything, 
and  he  talks  more  than  his  father  did.  I've  got 
my  reason,  Mr.  Lyon,  and  if  anybody  talks  sense 
I  can  follow  him  ;  but  Felix  talks  so  wild,  and  con- 
tradicts his  mother.  And  what  do  you  think  he 
says,  after  giving  up  his  'prenticeship,  and  going  off 
to  study  at  Glasgow,  and  getting  through  all  the  bit  of 
money  his  father  saved  for  his  bringing-up,  —  what 
has  all  his  learning  come  to  ?  He  says  I  'd  better 
never  open  my  Bible,  for  it 's  as  bad  poison  to  me 
as  the  pills  are  to  half  the  people  as  swallow  'em. 
You  '11  not  speak  of  this  again,  Mr.  Lyon,  —  I  don't 


78  PELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

think  ill  enough  of  you  to  believe  that.  For  I  sup- 
pose a  Christian  can  understand  the  word  o'  God 
without  going  to  Glasgow,  and  there 's  texts  upon 
texts  about  ointment  and  medicine,  and  there  's  one 
as  might  have  been  made  for  a  receipt  of  my  hus- 
band's, —  it 's  just  as  if  it  was  a  riddle,  and  Holt's 
Elixir  was  the  answer." 

"  Your  son  uses  rash  words,  Mistress  Holt,"  said 
the  minister,  "  but  it  is  quite  true  that  we  may  err 
in  giving  a  too  private  interpretation  to  the  Scrip- 
ture. The  word  of  God  has  to  satisfy  the  larger 
needs  of  his  people,  like  the  rain  and  the  sunshine, 
—  which  no  man  must  think  to  be  meant  for  his 
own  patch  of  seed-ground  solely.  Will  it  not  be 
well  that  I  should  see  your  son,  and  talk  with  him 
on  these  matters  ?  He  was  at  chapel,  I  observed, 
and  I  suppose  I  am  to  be  his  pastor." 

"  That  was  what  I  wanted  to  ask  you,  Mr.  Lyon. 
For  perhaps  he  '11  listen  to  you,  and  not  talk  you 
down  as  he  does  his  poor  mother.  For  after  we  'd 
been  to  chapel,  he  spoke  better  of  you  than  he  does 
of  most ;  he  said  you  was  a  fine  old  fellow,  and  an 
old-fashioned  Puritan,  —  he  uses  dreadful  language, 
Mr.  Lyon  ;  but  I  saw  he  did  n't  mean  you  ill,  for  all 
that.  He  calls  most  folks'  religion  rottenness  ;  and 
yet  another  time  he  '11  tell  me  I  ought  to  feel  myself 
a  sinner,  and  do  God's  will  and  not  my  own.  But 
it 's  my  belief  he  says  first  one  thing  and  then  an- 
other only  to  abuse  his  mother.  Or  else  he  's  going 
off  his  head,  and  must  be  sent  to  a  'sylum.  But  if 
he  writes  to  the  '  North  Loamshire  Herald '  first,  to 
tell  everybody  the  medicines  are  good  for  nothing, 
how  can  I  ever  keep  him  and  myself  ? " 

"  Tell  him  I  shall  feel  favoured  if  he  will  come 
and  see  me  this  evening,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  not  with- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  70 

out  a  little  prejudice  in  favour  of  the  young  man, 
whose  language  about  the  preacher  in  Malthouse 
Yard  did  not  seem  to  him  to  be  altogether  dreadful. 
"  Meanwhile,  my  friend,  I  counsel  you  to  send  up  a 
supplication,  which  I  shall  not  fail  to  offer  also,  that 
you  may  receive  a  spirit  of  humility  and  submission, 
so  that  you  may  not  be  hindered  from  seeing  and 
following  the  Divine  guidance  in  this  matter  by  any 
false  lights  of  pride  and  obstinacy.  Of  this  more 
when  I  have  spoken  with  your  son." 

"  I  'm  not  proud  or  obstinate,  Mr.  Lyon.  I  never 
did  say  I  was  everything  that  was  bad,  and  I  never 
will.  And  why  this  trouble  should  be  sent  on  me 
above  everybody  else,  —  for  I  have  n't  told  you  all. 
He  's  made  himself  a  journeyman  to  Mr.  Prowd  the 
watchmaker,  —  after  all  this  learning,  —  and  he 
says  he  '11  go  with  patches  on  his  knees,  and  he 
shall  like  himself  the  better.  And  as  for  his 
having  little  boys  to  teach,  they'll  come  in  all 
weathers  with  dirty  shoes.  If  it's  madness,  Mr. 
Lyon,  it 's  no  use  your  talking  to  him." 

"  We  shall  see.  Perhaps  it  may  even  be  the  dis- 
guised working  of  grace  within  him.  We  must  not 
judge  rashly.  Many  eminent  servants  of  God  have 
been  led  by  ways  as  strange." 

"  Then  I  'm  sorry  for  their  mothers,  that 's  all, 
Mr.  Lyon ;  and  all  the  more  if  they  'd  been  well- 
spoken-on  women.  For  not  my  biggest  enemy, 
whether  it 's  he  or  she,  if  they  '11  speak  the  truth, 
can  turn  round  and  say  I  've  deserved  this  trouble. 
And  when  everybody  gets  their  due,  and  people's 
doings  are  spoke  of  on  the  house-tops,  as  the  Bible 
says  they  will  be,  it  '11  be  known  what  I  've  gone 
through  with  those  medicines,  —  the  pounding  and 
the  pouring,  and  the  letting  stand,  and  the  weigh- 


8o  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

ing,  —  up  early  and  down  late,  —  there  's  nobody 
knows  yet  but  One  that 's  worthy  to  know ;  and 
the  pasting  o'  the  printed  labels  right  side  up- 
wards. There 's  few  women  would  have  gone 
through  with  it ;  and  it 's  reasonable  to  think  it  11 
be  made  up  to  me ;  for  if  there  's  promised  and  pur- 
chased blessings,  I  should  think  this  trouble  is  pur- 
chasing 'em.  For  if  my  son  Felix  does  n't  have  a 
strait-waistcoat  put  on  him,  he'll  have  his  way. 
But  I  say  no  more.  I  wish  you  good-morning,  Mr. 
Lyon,  and  thank  you,  though  I  well  know  it 's  your 
duty  to  act  as  you  're  doing.  And  I  never  troubled 
you  about  my  own  soul,  as  some  do  who  look  down 
on  me  for  not  being  a  church  member." 

"  Farewell,  Mistress  Holt,  farewell.  I  pray  that 
a  more  powerful  teacher  than  I  am  may  instruct 
you." 

The  door  was  closed,  and  the  much-tried  Eufus 
walked  about  again,  saying  aloud,  groaningly,  — 

"This  woman  has  sat  under  the  Gospel  all  her 
life,  and  she  is  as  blind  as  a  heathen,  and  as  proud 
and  stiff-necked  as  a  Pharisee  ;  yet  she  is  one  of 
the  souls  I  watch  for.  'T  is  true  that  even  Sara, 
the  chosen  mother  of  God's  people,  showed  a  spirit 
of  unbelief,  and  perhaps  of  selfish  anger ;  and  it  is 
a  passage  that  bears  the  unmistakable  signet, '  doing 
honour  to  the  wife  or  woman,  as  unto  the  weaker 
vessel.'  For  therein  is  the  greatest  check  put  on 
the  ready  scorn  of  the  natural  man." 


CHAPTER  V. 

1st  Citizen.    Sir,  there 's  a  hurry  in  the  veins  of  youth, 
That  makes  a  vice  of  virtue  by  excess. 

2d  Citizen.      What  if  the  coolness  of  our  tardier  veins 
Be  loss  of  virtue? 

1st  Citizen.  All  things  cool  with  time,  — 

The  sun  itself,  they  say,  till  heat  shall  find 
A  general  level,  nowhere  in  excess. 

2d  Citizen.      'T  is  a  poor  climax,  to  my  weaker  thought, 
That  future  middlingness. 

In  the  evening,  when  Mr.  Lyon  was  expecting  the 
knock  at  the  door  that  would  announce  Felix  Holt, 
he  occupied  his  cushionless  arm-chair  in  the  sitting- 
room,  and  was  skimming  rapidly,  in  his  short- 
sighted way,  by  the  light  of  one  candle,  the  pages 
of  a  missionary  report,  emitting  occasionally  a  slight 
"  H'm-m,"  that  appeared  to  be  expressive  of  criti- 
cism rather  than  of  approbation.  The  room  was 
dismally  furnished,  the  only  objects  indicating  an 
intention  of  ornament  being  a  bookcase,  a  map  of 
the  Holy  Land,  an  engraved  portrait  of  Dr.  Dod- 
dridge, and  a  black  bust  with  a  coloured  face,  which 
for  some  reason  or  other  was  covered  with  green 
gauze.  Yet  any  one  whose  attention  was  quite 
awake  must  have  been  aware,  even  on  entering,  of 
certain  things  that  were  incongruous  with  the  gen- 
eral air  of  sombreness  and  privation.  There  was  a 
delicate  scent  of  dried  rose-leaves ;  the  light  by 
which  the  minister  was  reading  was  a  wax-candle 
in  a  white  earthenware  candlestick,  and  the  table 


82  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

on  the  opposite  side  of  the  fireplace  held  a  dainty 
work-basket  frilled  with  blue  satin. 

Felix  Holt,  when  he  entered,  was  not  in  an  ob- 
servant mood ;  and  when,  after  seating  himself,  at 
the  minister's  invitation,  near  the  little  table  which 
held  the  work-basket,  he  stared  at  the  wax-candle 
opposite  to  him,  he  did  so  without  any  wonder  or 
consciousness  that  the  candle  was  not  of  tallow. 
But  the  minister's  sensitiveness  gave  another  inter- 
pretation to  the  gaze  which  he  divined  rather  than 
saw ;  and  in  alarm  lest  this  inconsistent  extrava- 
gance should  obstruct  his  usefulness,  he  hastened 
to  say,  — 

"  You  are  doubtless  amazed  to  see  me  with  a 
wax-light,  my  young  friend ;  but  this  undue  luxury 
is  paid  for  with  the  earnings  of  my  daughter,  who 
is  so  delicately  framed  that  the  smell  of  tallow  is 
loathsome  to  her." 

"  I  heeded  not  the  candle,  sir.  I  thank  Heaven 
I  am  not  a  mouse  to  have  a  nose  that  takes  note 
of  wax  or  tallow." 

The  loud,  abrupt  tones  made  the  old  man  vibrate 
a  little.  He  had  been  stroking  his  chin  gently  be- 
fore, with  a  sense  that  he  must  be  very  quiet  and 
deliberate  in  his  treatment  of  the  eccentric  young 
man  ;  but  now,  quite  unreflectingly,  he  drew  forth 
a  pair  of  spectacles,  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
using  when  he  wanted  to  observe  his  interlocutor 
more  closely  than  usual. 

"  And  I  myself,  in  fact,  am  equally  indifferent," 
he  said,  as  he  opened  and  adjusted  his  glasses,  "  so 
that  I  have  a  sufficient  light  on  my  book."  Here 
his  large  eyes  looked  discerningly  through  the 
spectacles. 

"  'T  is  the  quality  of   the  page  you  care  about, 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  83 

not  of  the  candle,"  said  Felix,  smiling  pleasantly 
enough  at  his  inspector.  "You're  thinking  that 
you  have  a  roughly  written  page  before  you  now." 

That  was  true.  The  minister,  accustomed  to  the 
respectable  air  of  provincial  townsmen,  and  espe- 
cially to  the  sleek  well-clipped  gravity  of  his  own 
male  congregation,  felt  a  slight  shock  as  his  glasses 
made  perfectly  clear  to  him  the  shaggy-headed, 
large-eyed,  strong-limbed  person  of  this  question- 
able young  man,  without  waistcoat  or  cravat.  But 
the  possibility,  supported  by  some  of  Mrs.  Holt's 
words,  that  a  disguised  work  of  grace  might  be 
going  forward  in  the  son  of  whom  she  complained 
so  bitterly,  checked  any  hasty  interpretations. 

"  I  abstain  from  judging  by  the  outward  appear- 
ance only,"  he  answered,  with  his  usual  simplicity. 
"  I  myself  have  experienced  that  when  the  spirit 
is  much  exercised  it  is  difficult  to  remember  neck- 
bands and  strings  and  such  small  accidents  of  our 
vesture,  which  are  nevertheless  decent  and  needful 
so  long  as  we  sojourn  in  the  flesh.  And  you,  too, 
my  young  friend,  as  I  gather  from  your  mother's 
troubled  and  confused  report,  are  undergoing  some 
travail  of  mind.  You  will  not,  I  trust,  object  to 
open  yourself  fully  to  me,  as  to  an  aged  pastor 
who  has  himself  had  much  inward  wrestling, 
and  has  especially  known  much  temptation  from 
doubt."' 

"As  to  doubt,"  said  Felix,  loudly  and  brusquely 
as  before,  "  if  it  is  those  absurd  medicines  and  gull- 
ing advertisements  that  my  mother  has  been  talk- 
ing of  to  you,  —  and  I  suppose  it  is,  —  I  Ve  no 
more  doubt  about  them  than  I  have  about  pocket- 
picking.  I  know  there 's  a  stage  of  speculation  in 
which  a  man  may  doubt  whether  a  pickpocket  is 


84  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

blameworthy,  —  but  I'm  not  one  of  your  subtle 
fellows  who  keep  looking  at  the  world  through 
their  own  legs.  If  I  allowed  the  sale  of  those 
medicines  to  go  on,  and  my  mother  to  live  out 
of  the  proceeds  when  I  can  keep  her  by  the  honest 
labour  of  my  hands,  I  've  not  the  least  doubt  that 
I  should  be  a  rascal." 

"I  would  fain  inquire  more  particularly  into 
your  objection  to  these  medicines,"  said  Mr.  Lyon, 
gravely.  Notwithstanding  his  conscientiousness 
and  a  certain  originality  in  his  own  mental  dispo- 
sition, he  was  too  little  used  to  high  principle  quite 
dissociated  from  sectarian  phraseology  to  be  as  im- 
mediately in  sympathy  with  it  as  he  would  other- 
wise have  been.  "I  know  they  have  been  well 
reported  of,  and  many  wise  persons  have  tried  reme- 
dies providentially  discovered  by  those  who  are  not 
regular  physicians,  and  have  found  a  blessing  in 
the  use  of  them.  I  may  m'ention  the  eminent  Mr. 
Wesley,  who,  though  I  hold  not  altogether  with  his 
Arminian  doctrine,  nor  with  the  usages  of  his  institu- 
tion, was  nevertheless  a  man  of  God ;  and  the  jour- 
nals of  various  Christians  whose  names  have  left 
a  sweet  savour  might  be  cited  in  the  same  sense. 
Moreover,  your  father,  who  originally  concocted 
these  medicines  and  left  them  as  a  provision  for 
your  mother,  was,  as  I  understand,  a  man  whose 
walk  was  not  unfaithful." 

"My  father  was  ignorant,"  said  Felix,  bluntly. 
"  He  knew  neither  the  complication  of  the  human 
system,  nor  the  way  in  which  drugs  counteract 
each  other.  Ignorance  is  not  so  damnable  as 
humbug,  but  when  it  prescribes  pills  it  may  hap- 
pen to  do  more  harm.  I  know  something  about 
these   things.      I   was  'prentice  for  five  miserable 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  85 

years  to  a  stupid  brute  of  a  country  apothecary,  — 
my  poor  father  left  money  for  that,  —  he  thought 
nothing  could  be  finer  for  me.  No  matter:  I 
know  that  the  Cathartic  Pills  are  a  drastic  com- 
pound which  may  be  as  bad  as  poison  to  half  the 
people  who  swallow  them;  that  the  Elixir  is  an 
absurd  farrago  of  a  dozen  incompatible  things ; 
and  that  the  Cancer  Cure  might  as  well  be  bottled 
ditch-water." 

Mr.  Lyon  rose  and  walked  up  and  down  the  room. 
His  simplicity  was  strongly  mixed  with  sagacity  as 
well  as  sectarian  prejudice,  and  he  did  not  rely  at 
once  on  a  loud-spoken  integrity,  —  Satan  might 
have  flavoured  it  with  ostentation.  Presently  he 
asked,  in  a  rapid,  low  tone,  "How  long  have  you 
known  this,  young  man  ? " 

"  Well  put,  sir,"  said  Felix.  "  I  've  known  it  a 
good  deal  longer  than  I  have  acted  upon  it,  like 
plenty  of  other  things.  But  you  believe  in 
conversion  ? " 

"Yea,  verily." 

"So  do  I.  I  was  converted  by  six  weeks' 
debauchery." 

The  minister  started.  "Young  man,"  he  said, 
solemnly,  going  up  close  to  Felix  and  laying  a  hand 
on  his  shoulder,  "speak  not  lightly  of  the  Divine 
operations,  and  restrain  unseemly  words." 

"  I  'm  not  speaking  lightly,"  said  Felix.  "  If  I 
had  not  seen  that  I  was  making  a  hog  of  myself 
very  fast,  and  that  pig-wash,  even  if  I  could  have 
got  plenty  of  it,  was  a  poor  sort  of  thing,  I  should 
never  have  looked  life  fairly  in  the  face  to  see  what 
was  to  be  done  with  it.  I  laughed  out  loud  at  last 
to  think  of  a  poor  devil  like  me,  in  a  Scotch  garret, 
with'my  stockings  out  at  heel  and  a  shilling  or  two 


86  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

to  be  dissipated  upon,  with  a  smell  of  raw  haggis 
mounting  from  below,  and  old  women  breathing 
gin  as  they  passed  me  on  the  stairs,  —  wanting  to 
turn  my  life  into  easy  pleasure.  Then  I  began  to 
see  what  else  it  could  be  turned  into.  Not  much, 
perhaps.  This  world  is  not  a  very  fine  place  for  a 
good  many  of  the  people  in  it.  But  I  've  made  up 
my  mind  it  sha'n't  be  the  worse  for  me,  if  I  can  help 
it.  They  may  tell  me  I  can't  alter  the  world, — 
that  there  must  be  a  certain  number  of  sneaks  and 
robbers  in  it,  and  if  I  don't  lie  and  filch  somebody 
else  will.  Well,  then,  somebody  else  shall,  for  I 
won't.  That 's  the  upshot  of  my  conversion,  Mr. 
Lyon,  if  you  want  to  know  it." 

Mr.  Lyon  removed  his  hand  from  Felix's  shoulder 
and  walked  about  again.  "  Did  you  sit  under  any 
preacher  at  Glasgow,  young  man  ? " 

"  No ;  I  heard  most  of  the  preachers  once,  but  I 
never  wanted  to  hear  them  twice." 

The  good  Eufus  was  not  without  a  slight  rising 
of  resentment  at  this  young  man's  want  of  rever- 
ence. It  was  not  yet  plain  whether  he  wanted  to 
hear  twice  the  preacher  in  Malthouse  Yard.  But 
the  resentful  feeling  was  carefully  repressed ;  a  soul 
in  so  peculiar  a  condition  must  be  dealt  with 
delicately. 

"  And  now,  may  I  ask,"  he  said,  "  what  course 
you  mean  to  take,  after  hindering  your  mother  from 
making  and  selling  these  drugs  ?  I  speak  no  more 
in  their  favour  after  what  you  have  said.  God  for- 
bid that  I  should  strive  to  hinder  you  from  seeking 
whatsoever  things  are  honest  and  honourable.  But 
your  mother  is  advanced  in  years ;  she  needs  com- 
fortable sustenance ;  you  have  doubtless  considered 
how  you  may  make   her  amends  ?     '  He  that  pro- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  87 

videth  not  for  his  own  — '  I  trust  you  respect  the 
authority  that  so  speaks.  And  I  will  not  suppose 
that,  after  being  tender  of  conscience  towards 
strangers,  you  will  be  careless  towards  your  mother. 
There  be  indeed  some  who,  taking  a  mighty  charge 
on  their  shoulders,  must  perforce  leave  their  house- 
holds to  Providence,  and  to  the  care  of  humbler 
brethren,  but  in  such  a  case  the  call  must  be 
clear." 

"  I  shall  keep  my  mother  as  well,  nay,  better 
than  she  has  kept  herself.  She  has  always  been 
frugal.  With  my  watch  and  clock  cleaning,  and 
teaching  one  or  two  little  chaps  that  I've  got  to 
come  to  me,  I  can  earn  enough.  As  for  me,  I  can 
live  on  bran  porridge.  I  have  the  stomach  of  a 
rhinoceros." 

"  But  for  a  young  man  so  well  furnished  as  you, 
who  can  questionless  write  a  good  hand  and  keep 
books,  were  it  not  well  to  seek  some  higher  situation 
as  clerk  or  assistant?  I  could  speak  to  Brother 
Muscat,  who  is  well  acquainted  with  all  such  open- 
ings. Any  place  in  Pendrell's  Bank,  I  fear,  is  now 
closed  against  such  as  are  not  Churchmen.  It  used 
not  to  be  so ;  but  a  year  ago  he  discharged  Brother 
Bodkin,  although  he  was  a  valuable  servant.  Still, 
something  might  be  found.  There  are  ranks  and 
degrees ;  and  those  who  can  serve  in  the  higher 
must  not  unadvisedly  change  what  seems  to  be  a 
providential  appointment.  Your  poor  mother  is  not 
altogether  —  " 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Lyon ;  I  've  had  all  that  out 
with  my  mother,  and  I  may  as  well  save  you  any 
trouble  by  telling  you  that  my  mind  lias  been  made 
up  about  that  a  long  while  ago.  I  '11  take  no  em- 
ployment that  obliges  me  to  prop  up  my  chin  with 


88  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

a  high  cravat,  and  wear  straps,  and  pass  the  livelong 
day  with  a  set  of  fellows  who  spend  their  spare 
money  on  shirt-pins.  That  sort  of  work  is  really 
lower  than  many  handicrafts ;  it  only  happens  to  be 
paid  out  of  proportion.  That 's  why  I  set  myself 
to  learn  the  watchmaking  trade.  My  father  was  a 
weaver  first  of  all.  It  would  have  been  better  for 
him  if  he  had  remained  a  weaver.  I  came  home 
through  Lancashire,  and  saw  an  uncle  of  mine 
who  is  a  weaver  still.  I  mean  to  stick  to  the 
class  I  belong  to,  —  people  who  don't  follow  the 
fashions." 

Mr.  Lyon  was  silent  a  few  moments.  This  dia- 
logue was  far  from  plain  sailing ;  lie  was  not  certain 
of  his  latitude  and  longitude.  If  the  despiser  of 
Glasgow  preachers  had  been  arguing  in  favour  of  gin 
and  Sabbath-breaking,  Mr.  Lyon's  course  would  have 
been  clearer.  "  Well,  well,"  he  said  deliberately, 
"  it  is  true  that  Saint  Paul  exercised  the  trade  of 
tent-making,  though  he  was  learned  in  all  the 
wisdom  of  the  Kabbis." 

"  Saint  Paul  was  a  wise  man,"  said  Felix.  "  Why 
should  I  want  to  get  into  the  middle  class  because 
I  have  some  learning  ?  The  most  of  the  middle  class 
are  as  ignorant  as  the  working  people  about  every- 
thing that  does  n't  belong  to  their  own  Brummagem 
life.  That 's  how  the  working  men  are  left  to  fool- 
ish devices,  and  keep  worsening  themselves ;  the 
best  heads  among  them  forsake  their  born  comrades, 
and  go  in  for  a  house  with  a  high  door-step  and  a 
brass  knocker." 

Mr.  Lyon  stroked  his  mouth  and  chin,  perhaps 
because  he  felt  some  disposition  to  smile;  and  it 
would  not  be  well  to  smile  too  readily  at  what 
seemed  but  a  weedy  resemblance  of  Christian  un- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  89 

worldliness.  On  the  contrary,  there  might  be  a 
dangerous  snare  in  an  unsanctified  outstepping  of 
average  Christian  practice. 

"Nevertheless,"  he  observed  gravely,  "it  is  by 
such  self-advancement  that  many  have  been  enabled 
to  do  good  service  to  the  cause  of  liberty  and  to  the 
public  well-being.  The  ring  and  the  robe  of  Joseph 
were  no  objects  for  a  good  man's  ambition ;  but  they 
were  the  signs  of  that  credit  which  he  won  by  his 
divinely  inspired  skill,  and  which  enabled  him  to 
act  as  a  saviour  to  his  brethren." 

"  Oh,  yes,  your  ringed  and  scented  men  of  the  peo- 
ple !  —  I  won't  be  one  of  them.  Let  a  man  once 
throttle  himself  with  a  satin  stock,  and  he  '11  get 
new  wants  and  new  motives.  Metamorphosis  will 
have  begun  at  his  neck-joint,  and  it  will  go  on  till  it 
has  changed  his  likings  first  and  then  his  reasoning, 
which  will  follow  his  likings  as  the  feet  of  a  hungry 
dog  follow  his  nose.  I  '11  have  none  of  your  clerkly 
gentility.  I  might  end  by  collecting  greasy  pence 
from  poor  men  to  buy  myself  a  fine  coat  and  a  glut- 
ton's dinner,  on  pretence  of  serving  the  poor  men. 
I  'd  sooner  be  Paley's  fat  pigeon  than  a  demagogue 
all  tongue  and  stomach,  though "  —  here  Felix 
changed  his  voice  a  little  —  "I  should  like  well 
enough  to  be  another  sort  of  demagogue,  if  I 
could." 

"  Then  you  have  a  strong  interest  in  the  great 
political  movements  of  these  times  ? "  said  Mr. 
Lyon,  with  a  perceptible  flashing  of  the  eyes. 

"  I  should  think  so.  I  despise  every  man  who 
has  not,  —  or,  having  it,  does  n't  try  to  rouse  it  in 
other  men." 

"  Eight,  my  young  friend,  right,"  said  the  minis- 
ter, in  a  deep,  cordial  tone.     Inevitably  his  mind  was 


90  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

drawn  aside  from  the  immediate  consideration  of 
Felix  Holt's  spiritual  interest  by  the  prospect  of 
political  sympathy.  In  those  days  so  many  instru- 
ments of  God's  cause  in  the  fight  for  religious  and 
political  liberty  held  creeds  that  were  painfully 
wrong,  and,  indeed,  irreconcilable  with  salvation ! 
"  That  is  my  own  view,  which  I  maintain  in  the  face 
of  some  opposition  from  brethren  who  contend  that 
a  share  in  public  movements  is  a  hindrance  to  the 
closer  walk,  and  that  the  pulpit  is  no  place  for  teach- 
ing men  their  duties  as  members  of  the  common- 
wealth. I  have  had  much  puerile  blame  cast  upon 
me  because  I  have  uttered  such  names  as  Brougham 
and  Wellington  in  the  pulpit.  Why  not  Welling- 
ton as  well  as  Rabshakeh  ?  and  why  not  Brougham 
as  well  as  Balaam  ?  Does  God  know  less  of  men 
than  he  did  in  the  days  of  Hezekiah  and  Moses? 
Is  his  arm  shortened,  and  is  the  world  become 
too  wide  for  his  providence  ?  But,  they  say,  there 
are  no  politics  in  the  New  Testament — " 

"  Well,  they  're  right  enough  there,"  said  Felix, 
with  his  usual  unceremoniousness. 

"  What !  you  are  of  those  who  hold  that  a  Chris- 
tian minister  should  not  meddle  with  public  mat- 
ters in  the  pulpit  ?  "  said  Mr.  Lyon,  colouring.  "  I 
am  ready  to  join  issue  on  that  point." 

"  Not  I,  sir,"  said  Felix  ;  "  I  should  say,  teach  any 
truth  you  can,  whether  it 's  in  the  Testament  or  out 
of  it.  It 's  little  enough  anybody  can  get  hold  of, 
and  still  less  what  he  can  drive  into  the  skulls  of 
a  pence-counting,  parcel-tying  generation,  such  as 
mostly  fill  your  chapels." 

"  Young  man,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  pausing  in  front  of 
Felix, — he  spoke  rapidly,  as  he  always  did,  except 
when  his  words  were  specially  weighted  with  emo- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  91 

tion ;  he  overflowed  with  matter,  and  in  his  mind 
matter  was  always  completely  organized  into  words, 
—  "I  speak  not  on  my  own  behalf,  for  not  only  have 
I  no  desire  that  any  man  should  think  of  me  above 
that  which  he  seeth  me  to  be,  but  I  am  aware  of 
much  that  should  make  me  patient  under  a  dis- 
esteem  resting  even  on  too  hasty  a  construction.  I 
speak  not  as  claiming  reverence  for  my  own  age  and 
office,  —  not  to  shame  you,  but  to  warn  you.  It  is 
good  that  you  should  use  plainness  of  speech,  and  I 
am  not  of  those  who  would  enforce  a  submissive 
silence  on  the  young,  that  they  themselves,  being 
elders,  may  be  heard  at  large ;  for  Elihu  was  the 
youngest  of  Job's  friends,  yet  was  there  a  wise  re- 
buke in  his  words ;  and  the  aged  Eli  was  taught  by 
a  revelation  to  the  boy  Samuel.  I  have  to  keep  a 
special  watch  over  myself  in  this  matter,  inasmuch 
as  I  have  a  need  of  utterance  which  makes  the 
thought  within  me  seem  as  a  pent-up  fire,  until  I 
have  shot  it  forth,  as  it  were,  in  arrowy  words,  each 
one  hitting  its  mark.  Therefore  I  pray  for  a  listen- 
ing spirit,  which  is  a  great  mark  of  grace.  Never- 
theless, my  young  friend,  I  am  bound,  as  I  said,  to 
warn  you.  The  temptations  that  most  beset  those 
who  have  great  natural  gifts,  and  are  wise  after  the 
flesh,  are  pride  and  scorn,  more  particularly  towards 
those  weak  things  of  the  world  which  have  been 
chosen  to  confound  the  things  which  are  mighty. 
The  scornful  nostril  and  the  high  head  gather  not 
the  odours  that  lie  on  the  track  of  truth.  The  mind 
that  is  too  ready  at  contempt  and  reprobation  is  —  " 

Here  the  door  opened,  and  Mr.  Lyon  paused  to 
look  round;  but  seeing  only  Lyddy  with  the  tea- 
tray,  he  went  on,  — 

"  Is,  I  may  say,  as  a  clenched  fist  that  can  give 


92  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

blows,  but  is  shut  up  from  receiving  and  "holding 
aught  that  is  precious,  —  though  it  were  heaven- 
sent manna." 

"  I  understand  you,  sir,"  said  Felix,  good-hu- 
mouredly,  putting  out  his  hand  to  the  little  man, 
who  had  come  close  to  him  as  he  delivered  the  last 
sentence  with  sudden  emphasis  and  slowness.  "  But 
I  'm  not  inclined  to  clench  my  fist  at  you." 

"Well,  well,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  shaking  the  prof- 
fered hand,  "  we  shall  see  more  of  each  other,  and  I 
trust  shall  have  much  profitable  communing.  You 
will  stay  and  have  a  dish  of  tea  with  us :  we  take 
the  meal  late  on  Thursdays,  because  my  daughter  is 
detained  by  giving  a  lesson  in  the  French  tongue. 
But  she  is  doubtless  returned  now,  and  will  pres- 
ently come  and  pour  out  tea  for  us." 

"  Thank  you,  I  '11  stay,"  said  Felix,  not  from  any 
curiosity  to  see  the  minister's  daughter,  but  from  a 
liking  for  the  society  of  the  minister  himself,  —  for 
his  quaint  looks  and  ways,  and  the  transparency  of 
his  talk,  which  gave  a  charm  even  to  his  weak- 
nesses. The  daughter  was  probably  some  prim 
Miss,  neat,  sensible,  pious,  but  all  in  a  small  femi- 
nine way,  in  which  Felix  was  no  more  interested 
than  in  Dorcas  meetings,  biographies  of  devout 
women,  and  that  amount  of  ornamental  knitting 
which  was  not  inconsistent  with  Nonconforming 
seriousness. 

"  I  'm  perhaps  a  little  too  fond  of  banging  and 
smashing,"  he  went  on ;  "a  phrenologist  at  Glasgow 
told  me  I  had  large  veneration  ;  another  man  there, 
who  knew  me,  laughed  out,  and  said  I  was  the 
most  blasphemous  iconoclast  living.  '  That,'  says 
my  phrenologist,  'is  because  of  his  large  Ideality, 
which  prevents  him  from  finding  anything  perfect 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  93 

enough  to  be  venerated.'  Of  course  I  put  my  ears 
down  and  wagged  my  tail  at  that  stroking." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  I  have  had  my  own  head  explored 
with  somewhat  similar  results.  It  is,  I  fear,  but 
a  vain  show  of  fulfilling  the  heathen  precept, 
'Know  thyself,'  and  too  often  leads  to  a  self-esti- 
mate which  will  subsist  in  the  absence  of  that  fruit 
by  which  alone  the  quality  of  the  tree  is  made  evi- 
dent. Nevertheless —  Esther,  my  dear,  this  is 
Mr.  Holt,  whose  acquaintance  I  have  even  now  been 
making  with  more  than  ordinary  interest.  He  will 
take  tea  with  us." 

Esther  bowed  slightly  as  she  walked  across  the 
room  to  fetch  the  candle  and  place  it  near  her  tray. 
Felix  rose  and  bowed,  also  with  an  air  of  indiffer- 
ence, which  was  perhaps  exaggerated  by  the  fact 
that  he  was  inwardly  surprised.  The  minister's 
daughter  was  not  the  sort  of  person  he  expected. 
She  was  quite  incongruous  with  his  notion  of  minis- 
ters' daughters  in  general ;  and  though  he  had  ex- 
pected something  nowise  delightful,  the  incongruity 
repelled  him.  A  very  delicate  scent,  the  faint  sug- 
gestion of  a  garden,  was  wafted  as  she  went.  He 
would  not  observe  her,  but  he  had  a  sense  of  an 
elastic  walk,  the  tread  of  small  feet,  a  long  neck 
and  a  high  crown  of  shining  brown  plaits  with 
curls  that  floated  backward,  —  things,  in  short,  that 
suggested  a  fine  lady  to  him,  and  determined  him 
to  notice  her  as  little  as  possible.  A  fine  lady  was 
always  a  sort  of  spun-glass  affair,  —  not  natural, 
and  with  no  beauty  for  him  as  art ;  but  a  fine  lady 
as  the  daughter  of  this  rusty  old  Puritan  was 
especially  offensive. 

"  Nevertheless,"  continued  Mr.  Lyon,  who  rarely 
let  drop  any  thread  of  discourse,  "  that  phrenological 


94  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

science  is  not  irreconcilable  with  the  revealed  dis- 
pensations. And  it  is  undeniable  that  we  have  our 
varying  native  dispositions  which  even  grace  will 
not  obliterate.  I  myself,  from  my  youth  up,  have 
been  given  to  question  too  curiously  concerning  the 
truth,  —  to  examine  and  sift  the  medicine  of  the 
soul  rather  than  to  apply  it." 

"  If  your  truth  happens  to  be  such  medicine  as 
Holt's  Pills  and  Elixir,  the  less  you  swallow  of  it 
the  better,"  said  Felix.  "  But  truth-vendors  and 
medicine-vendors  usually  recommend  swallowing. 
When  a  man  sees  his  livelihood  in  a  pill  or  a  propo- 
sition, he  likes  to  have  orders  for  the  dose,  and  not 
curious  inquiries." 

This  speech  verged  on  rudeness,  but  it  was  de- 
livered with  a  brusque  openness  that  implied  the 
absence  of  any  personal  intention.  The  minister's 
daughter  was  now  for  the  first  time  startled  into 
looking  at  Felix.  But  her  survey  of  this  unusual 
speaker  was  soon  made,  and  she  relieved  her  father 
from  the  need  to  reply  by  saying,  — 

"  The  tea  is  poured  out,  father." 

That  was  the  signal  for  Mr.  Lyon  to  advance 
towards  the  table,  raise  his  right  hand,  and  ask  a 
blessing  at  sufficient  length  for  Esther  to  glance 
at  the  visitor  again.  There  seemed  to  be  no  danger 
of  his  looking  at  her ;  he  was  observing  her  father. 
She  had  time  to  remark  that  he  was  a  peculiar-look- 
ing person,  but  not  insignificant,  which  was  the 
quality  that  most  hopelessly  consigned  a  man  to 
perdition.  He  was  massively  built.  The  striking 
points  in  his  face  were  large  clear  gray  eyes  and 
full  lips. 

"  Will  you  draw  up  to  the  table,  Mr.  Holt  ? "  said 
the  minister. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE   RADICAL.  95 

In  the  act  of  rising,  Felix  pushed  back  his  chair 
too  suddenly  against  the  rickety  table  close  by  him ; 
and  down  went  the  blue-frilled  work-basket,  flying 
open,  and  dispersing  on  the  floor  reels,  thimble, 
muslin-work,  a  small  sealed  bottle  of  attar  of  rose, 
and  something  heavier  than  these,  —  a  duodecimo 
volume  which  fell  close  to  him  between  the  table 
and  the  fender. 

"  Oh  my  stars  !  "  said  Felix,  "  I  beg  your  pardon." 
Esther  had  already  started  up,  and  with  wonderful 
quickness  had  picked  up  half  the  small  rolling 
things  while  Felix  was  lifting  the  basket  and  the 
book.  This  last  had  opened,  and  had  its  leaves 
crushed  in  falling;  and,  with  the  instinct  of  a 
bookish  man,  he  saw  nothing  more  pressing  to  be 
done  than  to  flatten  the  corners  of  the  leaves. 

"  Byron's  Poems  ! "  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  disgust, 
while  Esther  was  recovering  all  the  other  articles. 
"'The  Dream/  — he'd  better  have  been  asleep  and 
snoring.  What!  do  you  stuff  your  memory  with 
Byron,  Miss  Lyon  ? " 

Felix,  on  his  side,  was  led  at  last  to  look  straight 
at  Esther,  but  it  was  with  a  strong  denunciatory  and 
pedagogic  intention.  Of  course  he  saw  more  clearly 
than  ever  that  she  was  a  fine  lady. 

She  reddened,  drew  up  her  long  neck,  and  said,  as 
she  retreated  to  her  chair  again,  — 

"  I  have  a  great  admiration  for  Byron." 

Mr.  Lyon  had  paused  in  the  act  of  drawing  his 
chair  to  the  tea-table,  and  was  looking  on  at  this 
scene,  wrinkling  the  corners  of  his  eyes  with  a  per- 
plexed smile.  Esther  would  not  have  wished  him 
to  know  anything  about  the  volume  of  Byron,  but 
she  was  too  proud  to  show  any  concern. 

"He  is  a  worldly  and  vain  writer,  I  fear,"  said 


$6  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Mr.  Lyon.  He  knew  scarcely  anything  of  the  poet, 
whose  books  embodied  the  faith  and  ritual  of  many 
young  ladies  and  gentlemen. 

"  A  misanthropic  debauchee,"  said  Felix,  lifting  a 
chair  with  one  hand,  and  holding  the  book  open  in 
the  other,  "whose  notion  of  a  hero  was  that  he 
should  disorder  his  stomach  and  despise  mankind. 
His  corsairs  and  renegades,  his  Alps  and  Manfreds, 
are  the  most  paltry  puppets  that  were  ever  pulled 
by  the  strings  of  lust  and  pride." 

"Hand  the  book  to  me,"  said  Mr.  Lyon. 

"  Let  me  beg  of  you  to  put  it  aside  till  after  tea, 
father,"  said  Esther.  "However  objectionable  Mr. 
Holt  may  find  its  pages,  they  would  certainly  be 
made  worse  by  being  greased  with  bread-and-butter." 

"  That  is  true,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  laying 
down  the  book  on  the  small  table  behind  him.  He 
saw  that  his  daughter  was  angry. 

"  Ho,  ho ! "  thought  Felix,  "  her  father  is  fright- 
ened at  her.  How  came  he  to  have  such  a  nice-step- 
ping, long-necked  peacock  for  his  daughter  ?  but  she 
shall  see  that  I  am  not  frightened."  Then  he  said 
aloud,  "  I  should  like  to  know  how  you  will  justify 
your  admiration  for  such  a  writer,  Miss  Lyon." 

"  I  should  not  attempt  it  with  you,  Mr.  Holt,"  said 
Esther.  "  You  have  such  strong  words  at  command, 
that  they  make  the  smallest  argument  seem  formi- 
dable. If  I  had  ever  met  the  giant  Cormoran,  I 
should  have  made  a  point  of  agreeing  with  him  in 
his  literary  opinions." 

Esther  had  that  excellent  thing  in  woman, — a  soft 
voice,  with  a  clear,  fluent  utterance.  Her  sauciness 
was  always  charming,  because  it  was  without  em- 
phasis, and  was  accompanied  with  graceful  little 
turns  of  the  head. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  97 

Felix  laughed  at  her  thrust  with  young  heartiness. 

"My  daughter  is  a  critic  of  words,  Mr.  Holt," 
said  the  minister,  smiling  complacently,  "  and  often 
corrects  mine  on  the  ground  of  niceties,  which  I 
profess  are  as  dark  to  me  as  if  they  were  the  reports 
of  a  sixth  sense  which  I  possess  not.  I  am  an 
eager  seeker  for  precision,  and  would  fain  find  lan- 
guage subtle  enough  to  follow  the  utmost  intricacies 
of  the  soul's  pathways,  but  I  see  not  why  a  round 
word  that  means  some  object,  made  and  blessed  by 
the  Creator,  should  be  branded  and  banished  as  a 
malefactor." 

"  Oh,  your  niceties,  —  I  know  what  they  are,"  said 
Felix,  in  his  usual  fortissimo.  "  They  all  go  on  your 
system  of  make-believe.  '  Eottenness '  may  suggest 
what  is  unpleasant,  so  you'd  better  say  'sugar- 
plums,' or  something  else  such  a  long  way  off  the 
fact  that  nobody  is  obliged  to  think  of  it.  Those 
are  your  roundabout  euphuisms  that  dress  up  swind- 
ling till  it  looks  as  well  as  honesty,  and  shoot  with 
boiled  pease  instead  of  bullets.  I  hate  your  gentle- 
manly speakers." 

"  Then  you  would  not  like  Mr.  Jermyn,  I  think," 
said  Esther.  "  That  reminds  me,  father,  that  to-day, 
when  I  was  giving  Miss  Louisa  Jermyn  her  lesson, 
Mr.  Jermyn  came  in  and  spoke  to  me  with  grand 
politeness,  and  asked  me  at  what  times  you  were 
likely  to  be  disengaged,  because  he  wished  to  make 
your  better  acquaintance,  and  consult  you  on  matters 
of  importance.  He  never  took  the  least  notice  of 
me  before.  Can  you  guess  the  reason  of  his  sudden 
ceremoniousness  ? " 

"  Nay,  child,"  said  the  minister,  ponderingly. 

"  Politics,  of  course,"  said  Felix.  "  He 's  on  some 
committee.      An   election    is    coming.      Universal 


98  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

peace  is  declared,  and  the  foxes  have  a  sincere  in- 
terest in  prolonging  the  lives  of  the  poultry.  Eh, 
Mr.  Lyon?    Isn't  that  it?" 

"  Nay,  not  so.  He  is  the  close  ally  of  the  Tran- 
some  family,  who  are  blind  hereditary  Tories  like 
the  Debarrys,  and  will  drive  their  tenants  to  the 
poll  as  if  they  were  sheep.  And  it  has  even  been 
hinted  that  the  heir  who  is  coming  from  the  East 
may  be  another  Tory  candidate,  and  coalesce  with 
the  younger  Debarry.  It  is  said  that  he  has  enor- 
mous wealth,  and  could  purchase  every  vote  in  the 
county  that  has  a  price." 

"  He  is  come,"  said  Esther.  "  I  heard  Miss 
Jermyn  tell  her  sister  that  she  had  seen  him  going 
out  of  her  father's  room." 

"  'T  is  strange,"  said  Mr.  Lyon. 

"  Something  extraordinary  must  have  happened," 
said  Esther,  "  for  Mr.  Jermyn  to  intend  courting  us. 
Miss  Jermyn  said  to  me  only  the  other  day  that 
she  could  not  think  how  I  came  to  be  so  well  edu- 
cated and  ladylike.  She  always  thought  Dissenters 
were  ignorant,  vulgar  people.  I  said,  So  they  were, 
usually,  and  Church  people  also  in  small  towns. 
She  considers  herself  a  judge  of  what  is  ladylike, 
and  she  is  vulgarity  personified,  —  with  large  feet, 
and  the  most  odious  scent  on  her  handkerchief,  and 
a  bonnet  that  looks  like  '  The  Fashion '  printed  in 
capital  letters." 

"  One  sort  of  fine  ladyism  is  as  good  as  another," 
said  Felix. 

"  No,  indeed.  Pardon  me,"  said  Esther.  "  A  real 
fine  lady  does  not  wear  clothes  that  flare  in  people's 
eyes,  or  use  importunate  scents,  or  make  a  noise  as 
she  moves;  she  is  something  refined  and  graceful 
and  charming,  and  never  obtrusive." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  99 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Felix,  contemptuously.  "And 
she  reads  Byron  also,  and  admires  Childe  Harold,  — 
gentlemen  of  unspeakable  woes,  who  employ  a  hair- 
dresser, and  look  seriously  at  themselves  in  the 
glass." 

Esther  reddened,  and  gave  a  little  toss.  Felix 
went  on  triumphantly.  "  A  fine  lady  is  a  squirrel- 
headed  thing,  with  small  airs  and  small  notions, 
about  as  applicable  to  the  business  of  life  as  a  pair 
of  tweezers  to  the  clearing  of  a  forest.  Ask  your 
father  what  those  old  persecuted  emigrant  Puri- 
tans would  have  done  with  fine-lady  wives  and 
daughters." 

"Oh,  there  is  no  danger  of  such  misalliances," 
said  Esther.  "  Men  who  are  unpleasant  companions 
and  make  frights  of  themselves,  are  sure  to  get 
wives  tasteless  enough  to  suit  them." 

"  Esther,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  "  let  not  your 
playfulness  betray  you  into  disrespect  towards  those 
venerable  pilgrims.  They  struggled  and  endured  in 
order  to  cherish  and  plant  anew  the  seeds  of  scrip- 
tural doctrine  and  of  a  pure  discipline." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  said  Esther,  hastily,  dreading  a 
discourse  on  the  pilgrim  fathers. 

"  Oh,  they  were  an  ugly  lot  ! "  Felix  burst  in, 
making  Mr.  Lyon  start.  "  Miss  Medora  would  n't 
have  minded  if  they  had  all  been  put  into  the  pil- 
lory and  lost  their  ears.  She  would  have  said, 
'  Their  ears  did  stick  out  so.'  I  should  n't  wonder 
if  that 's  a  bust  of  one  of  them."  Here  Felix,  with 
sudden  keenness  of  observation,  nodded  at  the  black 
bust  with  the  gauze  over  its  coloured  face. 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Lyon ;  "  that  is  the  eminent 
George  Whitfield,  who,  you  well  know,  had  a  gift 
of  oratory  as  of  one  on  whom  the  tongue  of  flame 


ioo  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

had  rested  visibly.  But  Providence  —  doubtless  for 
wise  ends  in  relation  to  the  inner  man,  for  I  would 
not  inquire  too  closely  into  minutiae  which  carry 
too  many  plausible  interpretations  for  any  one  of 
them  to  be  stable  —  Providence,  I  say,  ordained 
that  the  good  man  should  squint ;  and  my  daughter 
has  not  yet  learned  to  bear  with  this  infirmity." 

"  So  she  has  put  a  veil  over  it.  Suppose  you  had 
squinted  yourself  ? "  said  Felix,  looking  at  Esther. 

"  Then  doubtless  you  could  have  been  more  polite 
to  me,  Mr.  Holt,"  said  Esther,  rising  and  placing 
herself  at  her  work-table.  "You  seem  to  prefer 
what  is  unusual  and  ugly." 

"  A  peacock  ! "  thought  Felix.  "  I  should  like  to 
come  and  scold  her  every  day,  and  make  her  cry 
and  cut  her  fine  hair  off." 

Felix  rose  to  go,  and  said,  "  I  will  not  take  up 
more  of  your  valuable  time,  Mr.  Lyon.  I  know 
that  you  have  not  many  spare  evenings." 

"  That  is  true,  my  young  friend  ;  for  I  now  go  to 
Sproxton  one  evening  in  the  week.  I  do  not  de- 
spair that  we  may  some  day  need  a  chapel  there, 
though  the  hearers  do  not  multiply  save  among  the 
women,  and  there  is  no  work  as  yet  begun  among', 
the  miners  themselves.  I  shall  be  glad  of  your 
company  in  my  walk  thither  to-morrow  at  five 
o'clock,  if  you  would  like  to  see  how  that  popula- 
tion has  grown  of  late  years." 

"  Oh,  I  've  been  to  Sproxton  already  several  times. 
I  had  a  congregation  of  my  own  there  last  Sunday 
evening." 

"  What !  do  you  preach  ? "  said  Mr.  Lyon,  with  a 
brightened  glance. 

"  Not  exactly.     I  went  to  the  alehouse." 

Mr.  Lyon  started.     "I  trust  you  are  putting  a 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  101 

riddle  to  me,  young  man,  even  as  Samson  did  to  his 
companions.  From  what  you  said  but  lately,  it 
cannot  be  that  you  are  given  to  tippling  and  to 
taverns." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  drink  much.  I  order  a  pint  of  beer, 
and  I  get  into  talk  with  the  fellows  over  their  pots 
and  pipes.  Somebody  must  take  a  little  knowledge 
and  common-sense  to  them  in  this  way,  else  how 
are  they  to  get  it  ?  I  go  for  educating  the  non- 
electors,  so  I  put  myself  in  the  way  of  my  pupils ; 
my  academy  is  the  beerhouse.  I  '11  walk  with  you 
to-morrow  with  great  pleasure." 

"Do  so,  do  so,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  shaking  hands 
with  his  odd  acquaintance.  "  We  shall  understand 
each  other  better  by-and-by,  I  doubt  not." 

"  I  wish  you  good-evening,  Miss  Lyon." 

Esther  bowed  very  slightly,  without  speaking. 

"  That  is  a  singular  young  man,  Esther,"  said  the 
minister,  walking  about  after  Felix  was  gone.  "  I 
discern  in  him  a  love  for  whatsoever  things  are  hon- 
est and  true,  which  I  would  fain  believe  to  be  an 
earnest  of  further  endowment  with  the  wisdom 
that  is  from  on  high.  It  is  true  that,  as  the  trav- 
eller in  the  desert  is  often  lured,  by  a  false  vision 
of  water  and  freshness,  to  turn  aside  from  the  track 
which  leads  to  the  tried  and  established  fountains, 
so  the  Evil  One  will  take  advantage  of  a  natural 
yearning  towards  the  better,  to  delude  the  soul  with 
a  self-flattering  belief  in  a  visionary  virtue,  higher 
than  the  ordinary  fruits  of  the  Spirit.  But  I  trust 
it  is  not  so  here.  I  feel  a  great  enlargement  in  this 
young  man's  presence,  notwithstanding  a  certain 
license  in  his  language,  which  I  shall  use  my  efforts 
to  correct." 

"  I  th?r\  he  is  very  coarse  and  rude,"  said  Esther, 


102  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

with  a  touch  of  temper  in  her  voice.  "  But  he 
speaks  better  English  than  most  of  our  visitors. 
What  is  his  occupation  ? " 

"Watch  and  clock  making,  by  which,  together 
with  a  little  teaching,  as  I  understand,  he  hopes  to 
maintain  his  mother,  not  thinking  it  right  that  she 
should  live  by  the  sale  of  medicines  whose  virtues 
he  distrusts.     It  is  no  common  scruple." 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Esther,  "  I  thought  he  was  some- 
thing higher  than  that."     She  was  disappointed. 

Felix,  on  his  side,  as  he  strolled  out  in  the  even- 
ing air,  said  to  himself :  "  Now  by  what  fine  meshes 
of  circumstance  did  that  queer,  devout  old  man, 
with  his  awful  creed,  which  makes  this  world  a 
vestibule  with  double  doors  to  hell,  and  a  narrow 
stair  on  one  side  whereby  the  thinner  sort  may 
mount  to  heaven,  —  by  what  subtle  play  of  flesh 
and  spirit  did  he  come  to  have  a  daughter  so  little 
in  his  own  likeness  ?  Married  foolishly,  I  suppose. 
I  '11  never  marry,  though  I  should  have  to  live  on 
raw  turnips  to  subdue  my  flesh.  I  '11  never  look 
back  and  say,  '  I  had  a  fine  purpose  once,  —  I  meant 
to  keep  my  hands  clean  and  my  soul  upright,  and 
to  look  truth  in  the  face ;  but  pray  excuse  me,  I 
have  a  wife  and  children,  —  I  must  lie  and  simper 
a  little,  else  they  '11  starve ; '  or,  '  My  wife  is  nice ; 
she  must  have  her  bread  well  buttered,  and  her 
feelings  will  be  hurt  if  she  is  not  thought  genteel.' 
That  is  the  lot  Miss  Esther  is  preparing  for  some 
man  or  other.  I  could  grind  my  teeth  at  such  self- 
satisfied  minxes,  who  think  they  can  tell  everybody 
what  is  the  correct  thing,  and  the  utmost  stretch  of 
their  ideas  will  not  place  them  on  a  level  with  the 
intelligent  fleas.  I  should  like  to  see  if  she  could 
be  made  ashamed  of  herself." 


CHAPTEK  VI. 

Though  she  be  dead,  yet  let  me  think  she  lives, 
And  feed  my  mind,  that  dies  for  want  of  her. 

Marlowe  :  Tamburlaine  the  Great. 

Hardly  any  one  in  Treby  who  thought  at  all  of 
Mr.  Lyon  and  his  daughter  had  not  felt  the  same 
sort  of  wonder  about  Esther  as  Felix  felt.  She  was 
not  much  liked  by  her  father's  church  and  congre- 
gation. The  less  serious  observed  that  she  had  too 
many  airs  and  graces,  and  held  her  head  much  too 
high  ;  the  stricter  sort  feared  greatly  that  Mr.  Lyon 
had  not  been  sufficiently  careful  in  placing  his 
daughter  among  God-fearing  people,  and  that,  being 
led  astray  by  the  melancholy  vanity  of  giving  her 
exceptional  accomplishments,  he  had  sent  her  to  a 
French  school,  and  allowed  her  to  take  situations 
where  she  had  contracted  notions  not  only  above 
her  own  rank,  but  of  too  worldly  a  kind  to  be  safe 
in  any  rank.  But  no  one  knew  what  sort  of  a 
woman  her  mother  had  been,  for  Mr.  Lyon  never 
spoke  of  his  past  domesticities.  When  he  was 
chosen  as  pastor  at  Treby  in  1825,  it  was  under- 
stood that  he  had  been  a  widower  many  years,  and 
he  had  no  companion  but  the  tearful  and  much- 
exercised  Lyddy,  his  daughter  being  still  at  school 
It  was  only  two  years  ago  that  Esther  had  come 
home  to  live  permanently  with  her  father,  and  take 


104  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

pupils  in  the  town.  Within  that  time  she  had  ex- 
cited a  passion  in  two  young  Dissenting  breasts 
that  were  clad  in  the  best  style  of  Treby  waistcoat, 
—  a  garment  which  at  that  period  displayed  much 
design  both  in  the  stuff  and  the  wearer;  and  she 
had  secured  an  astonished  admiration  of  her  clever- 
ness from  the  girls  of  various  ages  who  were  her 
pupils ;  indeed,  her  knowledge  of  French  was  gen- 
erally held  to  give  a  distinction  to  Treby  itself  as 
compared  with  other  market-towns.  But  she  had 
won  little  regard  of  any  other  kind.  Wise  Dissent- 
ing matrons  were  divided  between  fear  lest  their 
sons  should  want  to  marry  her  and  resentment  that 
she  should  treat  those  "  undeniable "  young  men 
with  a  distant  scorn  which  was  hardly  to  be  toler- 
ated in  a  minister's  daughter ;  not  only  because  that 
parentage  appeared  to  entail  an  obligation  to  show 
an  exceptional  degree  of  Christian  humility,  but 
"because,  looked  at  from  a  secular  point  of  view,  a 
poor  minister  must  be  below  the  substantial  house- 
holders who  kept  him.  For  at  that  time  the 
preacher  who  was  paid  under  the  Voluntary  system 
was  regarded  by  his  flock  with  feelings  not  less 
mixed  than  the  spiritual  person  who  still  took  his 
tithe-pig  or  his  modus.  His  gifts  were  admired, 
and  tears  were  shed  under  best  bonnets  at  his  ser- 
mons ;  but  the  weaker  tea  was  thought  good  enough 
for  him ;  and  even  when  he  went  to  preach  a  char- 
ity sermon  in  a  strange  town,  he  was  treated  with 
home-nade  wine  and  the  smaller  bedroom.  As  the 
good  Churchman's  reverence  was  often  mixed  with 
growling,  and  was  apt  to  be  given  chiefly  to  an  ab- 
stract parson  who  was  what  a  parson  ought  to  be ; 
so  the  good  Dissenter  sometimes  mixed  his  approval 
of  ministerial  gifts  with  considerable  criticism  and 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  105 

cheapening  of  the  human  vessel  which  contained 
those  treasures.  Mrs.  Muscat  and  Mrs.  Nuttwood 
applied  the  principle  of  Christian  equality  by  re- 
marking that  Mr.  Lyon  had  his  oddities,  and  that 
he  ought  not  to  allow  his  daughter  to  indulge  in 
such  unbecoming  expenditure  on  her  gloves,  shoes, 
and  hosiery,  even  if  she  did  pay  for  them  out  of  her 
earnings.  As  for  the  Church  people  who  engaged 
Miss  Lyon  to  give  lessons  in  their  families,  their 
imaginations  were  altogether  prostrated  by  the  in- 
congruity between  accomplishments  and  Dissent, 
between  weekly  prayer-meetings  and  a  conversance 
with  so  lively  and  altogether  worldly  a  language  as 
the  French.  Esther's  own  mind  was  not  free  from 
a  sense  of  irreconcilableness  between  the  objects  of 
her  taste  and  the  conditions  of  her  lot.  She  knew 
that  Dissenters  were  looked  down  upon  by  those 
whom  she  regarded  as  the  most  refined  classes  ;  her 
favourite  companions,  both  in  France  and  at  an 
English  school  where  she  had  been  a  junior  teacher, 
had  thought  it  quite  ridiculous  to  have  a  father 
who  was  a  Dissenting  preacher ;  and  when  an  ar- 
dently admiring  school-fellow  induced  her  parents 
to  take  Esther  as  a  governess  to  the  younger  chil- 
dren, all  her  native  tendencies  towards  luxury, 
fastidiousness,  and  scorn  of  mock  gentility  were 
strengthened  by  witnessing  the  habits  of  a  well-born 
and  wealthy  family.  Yet  the  position  of  servitude 
was  irksome  to  her,  and  she  was  glad  at  last  to  live 
at  home  with  her  father;  for  though,  throughout 
her  girlhood,  she  had  wished  to  avoid  this  lot,  a 
little  experience  had  taught  her  to  prefer  its  com- 
parative independence.  But  she  was  not  contented 
with  her  life  :  she  seemed  to  herself  to  be  sur- 
rounded with  ignoble,  uninteresting  conditions,  from 


106  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

which  there  was  no  issue  ;  for  even  if  she  had  been 
unamiable  enough  to  give  her  father  pain  deliber- 
ately, it  would  have  been  no  satisfaction  to  her  to 
go  to  Treby  church,  and  visibly  turn  her  back  on 
Dissent.  It  was  not  religious  differences,  but  social 
differences,  that  Esther  was  concerned  about,  and 
her  ambitious  taste  would  have  been  no  more  grat- 
ified in  the  society  of  the  Waces  than  in  that  of  the 
Muscats.  The  Waces  spoke  imperfect  English,  and 
played  whist ;  the  Muscats  spoke  the  same  dialect, 
and  took  in  the  "  Evangelical  Magazine."  Esther 
liked  neither  of  these  amusements.  She  had  one  of 
those  exceptional  organizations  which  are  quick  and 
sensitive  without  being  in  the  least  morbid ;  she 
was  alive  to  the  finest  shades  of  manner,  to  the 
nicest  distinctions  of  tone  and  accent ;  she  had  a 
little  code  of  her  own  about  scents  and  colours,  tex- 
tures and  behaviour,  by  which  she  secretly  con- 
demned or  sanctioned  all  things  and  persons.  And 
she  was  well  satisfied  with  herself  for  her  fastidious 
taste,  never  doubting  that  hers  was  the  highest 
standard.  She  was  proud  that  the  best-born  and 
handsomest  girls  at  school  had  always  said  that  she 
might  be  taken  for  a  born  lady.  Her  own  pretty 
instep,  clad  in  a  silk  stocking,  her  little  heel,  just 
rising  from  a  kid  slipper,  her  irreproachable  nails 
and  delicate  wrist,  were  the  objects  of  delighted 
consciousness  to  her ;  and  she  felt  that  it  was  her 
superiority  which  made  her  unable  to  use  without 
disgust  any  but  the  finest  cambric  handkerchiefs 
and  freshest  gloves.  Her  money  all  went  in  the 
gratification  of  these  nice  tastes,  and  she  saved 
nothing  from  her  earnings.  I  cannot  say  that  she 
had  any  pangs  of  conscience  on  this  score  ;  for  she 
felt   sure   that   she   was  generous :   she   hated   all 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  107 

meanness,  would  empty  her  purse  impulsively  on 
some  sudden  appeal  to  her  pity,  and  if  she  found 
out  that  her  father  had  a  want,  she  would  supply 
it  with  some  pretty  device  of  a  surprise.  But  then 
the  good  man  so  seldom  had  a  want,  —  except  the 
perpetual  desire,  which  she  could  never  gratify,  of 
seeing  her  under  convictions,  and  fit  to  become  a 
member  of  the  church. 

As  for  little  Mr.  Lyon,  he  loved  and  admired  this 
unregenerate  child  more,  he  feared,  than  was  con- 
sistent with  the  due  preponderance  of  impersonal 
and  ministerial  regards :  he  prayed  and  pleaded  for 
her  with  tears,  humbling  himself  for  her  spiritual 
deficiencies  in  the  privacy  of  his  study ;  and  then 
came  downstairs  to  find  himself  in  timorous  sub- 
jection to  her  wishes,  lest,  as  he  inwardly  said,  he 
should  give  his  teaching  an  ill  savour,  by  mingling 
it  with  outward  crossing.  There  will  be  queens  in 
spite  of  Salic  or  other  laws  of  later  date  than  Adam 
and  Eve ;  and  here,  in  this  small  dingy  house  of 
the  minister  in  Malthouse  Yard,  there  was  a  light- 
footed,  sweet-voiced  Queen  Esther. 

The  stronger  will  always  rule,  say  some,  with  an 
air  of  confidence  which  is  like  a  lawyer's  flourish, 
forbidding  exceptions  or  additions.  But  what  is 
strength  ?  Is  it  blind  wilfulness  that  sees  no  ter- 
rors, no  many-linked  consequences,  no  bruises  and 
wounds  of  those  whose  cords  it  tightens  ?  Is  it  the 
narrowness  of  a  brain  that  conceives  no  needs  differ- 
ing from  its  own,  and  looks  to  no  results  beyond  the 
bargains  of  to-day ;  that  tugs  with  emphasis  for 
every  small  purpose,  and  thinks  it  weakness  to 
exercise  the  sublime  power  of  resolved  renunciation  ? 
There  is  a  sort  of  subjection  which  is  the  peculiar 
heritage  of  largeness  and  of  love  ;  and  strength  is 


108  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

often  only  another  name  for  willing  bondage  to 
irremediable   weakness. 

Esther  had  affection  for  her  father;  she  recog- 
nized the  purity  of  his  character,  and  a  quickness 
of  intellect  in  him  which  responded  to  her  own 
liveliness,  in  spite  of  what  seemed  a  dreary  piety, 
which  selected  everything  that  was  least  interesting 
and  romantic  in  life  and  history.  But  his  old 
clothes  had  a  smoky  odour,  and  she  did  not  like  to 
walk  with  him,  because,  when  people  spoke  to  him 
in  the  street,  it  was  his  wont,  instead  of  remarking 
on  the  weather  and  passing  on,  to  pour  forth  in  an 
absent  manner  some  reflections  that  were  occupying 
his  mind  about  the  traces  of  the  Divine  government, 
or  about  a  peculiar  incident  narrated  in  the  life  of 
the  eminent  Mr.  Kichard  Baxter.  Esther  had  a 
horror  of  appearing  ridiculous  even  in  the  eyes  of 
vulgar  Trebians.  She  fancied  that  she  should  have 
loved  her  mother  better  than  she  was  able  to  love 
her  father;  and  she  wished  she  could  have  re- 
membered that  mother  more  thoroughly. 

But  she  had  no  more  than  a  broken  vision  of  the 
time  before  she  was  five  years  old,  —  the  time  when 
the  word  oftenest  on  her  lips  was  "  Mamma  ;  "  when 
a  low  voice  spoke  caressing  French  words  to  her, 
and  she  in  her  turn  repeated  the  words  to  her  rag- 
doll  ;  when  a  very  small  white  hand,  different  from 
any  that  came  after,  used  to  pat  her  and  stroke  her, 
and  tie  on  her  frock  and  pinafore,  and  when  at  last 
there  was  nothing  but  sitting  with  a  doll  on  a  bed 
where  mamma  was  lying,  till  her  father  once  carried 
her  away.  Where  distinct  memory  began,  there  was 
no  longer  the  low  caressing  voice  and  the  small  white 
hand.  She  knew  that  her  mother  was  a  French- 
woman, that  she  had  been  in  want  and  distress,  and 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  109 

that  her  maiden  name  was  Annette  Ledru.  Her 
father  had  told  her  no  more  than  this ;  and  once,  in 
her  childhood,  when  she  had  asked  him  some 
question,  he  had  said,  "  My  Esther,  until  you  are  a 
woman,  we  will  only  think  of  your  mother.  When 
you  are  about  to  be  married  and  leave  me,  we  will 
speak  of  her,  and  I  will  deliver  to  you  her  ring  and 
all  that  was  hers ;  but,  without  a  great  command 
laid  upon  me,  I  cannot  pierce  my  heart  by  speaking 
of  that  which  was  and  is  not."  Esther  had  never 
forgotten  these  words  ;  and  the  older  she  became,  the 
more  impossible  she  felt  it  that  she  should  urge  her 
father  with  questions  about  the  past. 

His  inability  to  speak  of  that  past  to  her  de- 
pended on  manifold  causes.  Partly  it  came  from  an 
initial  concealment.  He  had  not  the  courage  to  tell 
Esther  that  he  was  not  really  her  father ;  he  had 
not  the  courage  to  renounce  that  hold  on  her  ten- 
derness which  the  belief  in  his  natural  fatherhood 
must  help  to  give  him,  or  to  incur  any  resentment 
that  her  quick  spirit  might  feel  at  having  been 
brought  up  under  a  false  supposition.  But  there 
were  other  things  yet  more  difficult  for  him  to  be 
quite  open  about,  —  deep  sorrows  of  his  life  as  a 
Christian  minister  that  were  hardly  to  be  told  to 
a  girl. 

Twenty-two  years  before,  when  Eufus  Lyon  was 
no  more  than  thirty-six  years  old,  he  was  the  ad- 
mired pastor  of  a  large  Independent  congregation 
in  one  of  our  southern  seaport  towns.  He  was  un- 
married, and  had  met  all  exhortations  of  friends  who 
represented  to  him  that  a  bishop  —  that  is,  the  over- 
seer of  an  Independent  church  and  congregation  — 
should  be  the  husband  of  one  wife,  by  saying  that 
Saint  Paul  meant  this  particular  as  a  limitation,  and 


no  EELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

not  as  an  injunction  ;  that  a  minister  was  permitted 
to  have  one  wife,  but  that  he,  Eufus  Lyon,  did  not 
wish  to  avail  himself  of  that  permission,  finding  his 
studies  and  other  labours  of  his  vocation  all-absorb- 
ing, and  seeing  that  mothers  in  Israel  were  suffi- 
ciently provided  by  those  who  had  not  been  set  apart 
for  a  more  special  work.  His  church  and  congre- 
gation were  proud  of  him ;  he  was  put  forward  on 
platforms,  was  made  a  "  deputation,"  and  was  re- 
quested to  preach  anniversary  sermons  in  far-off 
towns.  Wherever  noteworthy  preachers  were  dis- 
cussed, Eufus  Lyon  was  almost  sure  to  be  mentioned 
as  one  who  did  honour  to  the  Independent  body  ;  his 
sermons  were  said  to  be  full  of  sfudy,  yet  full  of 
fire ;  and  while  he  had  more  of  human  knowledge 
than  many  of  his  brethren,  he  showed  in  an  emi- 
nent degree  the  marks  of  a  true  ministerial  vocation. 
But  on  a  sudden  this  burning  and  shining  light 
seemed  to  be  quenched :  Mr.  Lyon  voluntarily  re- 
signed his  charge  and  withdrew  from  the  town. 

A  terrible  crisis  had  come  upon  him ;  a  moment 
in  which  religious  doubt  and  newly  awakened  pas- 
sion had  rushed  together  in  a  common  flood,  and 
had  paralyzed  his  ministerial  gifts.  His  life  of 
thirty-six  years  had  been  a  story  of  purely  reli- 
gious and  studious  fervour ;  his  passion  had  been  for 
doctrines,  for  argumentative  conquest  on  the  side  of 
right ;  the  sins  he  had  had  chiefly  to  pray  against  had 
been  those  of  personal  ambition  (under  such  forms 
as  ambition  takes  in  the  mind  of  a  man  who  has 
chosen  the  career  of  an  Independent  preacher),  and 
those  of  a  too  restless  intellect,  ceaselessly  urging 
questions  concerning  the  mystery  of  that  which 
was  assuredly  revealed,  and  thus  hindering  the  due 
nourishment  of  the  soul  on  the  substance  of  the 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  m 

truth  delivered.  Even  at  that  time  of  comparative 
youth  his  unworldliness  and  simplicity  in  small 
matters  (for  he  was  keenly  awake  to  the  larger  af- 
fairs of  this  world)  gave  a  certain  oddity  to  his 
manners  and  appearance ;  and  though  his  sensitive 
face  had  much  beauty,  his  person  altogether  seemed 
so  irrelevant  to  a  fashionable  view  of  things  that 
well-dressed  ladies  and  gentlemen  usually  laughed 
at  him,  as  they  probably  did  at  Mr.  John  Milton 
after  the  Restoration  and  ribbons  had  come  in,  and 
still  more  at  that  apostle,  of  weak  bodily  presence, 
who  preached,  in  the  back  streets  of  Ephesus  and 
elsewhere,  a  new  view  of  a  new  religion  that  hardly 
anybody  believed  in.  Eufus  Lyon  was  the  singular- 
looking  apostle  of  the  Meeting  in  Skipper's  Lane. 
Was  it  likely  that  any  romance  should  befall 
such  a  man  ?  Perhaps  not ;  but  romance  did  be- 
fall him. 

One  winter's  evening  in  1812,  Mr.  Lyon  was  re- 
turning from  a  village  preaching.  He  walked  at 
his  usual  rapid  rate,  with  busy  thoughts  undis- 
tracted  by  any  sight  more  distinct  than  the  bushes 
and  hedgerow  trees,  black  beneath  a  faint  moon- 
light, until  something  suggested  to  him  that  he  had 
perhaps  omitted  to  bring  away  with  him  a  thin 
account-book  in  which  he  recorded  certain  subscrip- 
tions. He  paused,  unfastened  his  outer  coat,  and 
felt  in  all  his  pockets ;  then  he  took  off  his  hat  and 
looked  inside  it.  The  book  was  not  to  be  found, 
and  he  was  about  to  walk  on,  when  he  was  startled 
by  hearing  a  low,  sweet  voice  say,  with  a  strong 
foreign  accent,  — 

"  Have  pity  on  me,  sir." 

Searching  with  his  short-sighted  eyes,  he  perceived 
some  one  on  a  side-bank ;  and  approaching,  he  found 


ii2  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

a  young  woman  with  a  baby  on  her  lap.  She  spoke 
again  more  faintly  than  before. 

"  Sir,  I  die  with  hunger ;  in  the  name  of  God,  take 
the  little  one." 

There  was  no  distrusting  the  pale  face  and  the 
sweet  low  voice.  Without  pause  Mr.  Lyon  took  the 
baby  in  his  arms,  and  said,  "  Can  you  walk  by  my 
side,  young  woman  ? " 

She  rose,  but  seemed  tottering.  "  Lean  on  me," 
said  Mr.  Lyon.  And  so  they  walked  slowly  on,  the 
minister  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  carrying  a 
baby. 

Nothing  better  occurred  to  him  than  to  take  his 
charge  to  his  own  house  ;  it  was  the  simplest  way 
of  relieving  the  woman's  wants,  and  finding  out 
how  she  could  be  helped  further;  and  he  thought 
of  no  other  possibilities.  She  was  too  feeble  for 
more  words  to  be  spoken  between  them  till  she 
was  seated  by  his  fireside.  His  elderly  servant 
was  not  easily  amazed  at  anything  her  master  did 
in  the  way  of  charity,  and  at  once  took  the  baby, 
while  Mr.  Lyon  unfastened  the  mother's  damp  bon- 
net and  shawl,  and  gave  her  something  warm  to 
drink.  Then,  waiting  by  her  till  it  was  time  to 
offer  her  more,  he  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  notice 
the  loveliness  of  her  face,  which  seemed  to  him  as 
that  of  an  angel,  with  a  benignity  in  its  repose  that 
carried  a  more  assured  sweetness  than  any  smile. 
Gradually  she  revived,  lifted  up  her  delicate  hands 
between  her  face  and  the  firelight,  and  looked  at  the 
baby  which  lay  opposite  to  her  on  the  old  servant's 
lap,  taking  in  spoonfuls  with  much  content,  and 
stretching  out  naked  feet  towards  the  warmth. 
Then,  as  her  consciousness  of  relief  grew  into  con- 
trasting memory,  she   lifted   up   her   eyes  to   Mr. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  113 

Lyon,  who  stood  close  by  her,  and  said  in  her 
pretty,  broken  way,  — 

"  I  knew  you  had  a  good  heart  when  you  took 
your  hat  off.  You  seemed  to  me  as  the  image  of 
the  bien-aimS  Saint  Jean." 

The  grateful  glance  of  those  blue-gray  eyes,  with 
their  long  shadow-making  eyelashes,  was  a  new 
kind  of  good  to  Eufus  Lyon  ;  it  seemed  to  him  as  if 
a  woman  had  never  really  looked  at  him  before. 
Yet  this  poor  thing  was  apparently  a  blind  French 
Catholic,  —  of  delicate  nurture,  surely,  judging  from 
her  hands.  He  was  in  a  tremor;  he  felt  that  it 
would  be  rude  to  question  her,  and  he  only  urged 
her  now  to  take  a  little  food.  She  accepted  it  with 
evident  enjoyment,  looking  at  the  child  continually, 
and  then,  with  a  fresh  burst  of  gratitude,  leaning 
forward  to  press  the  servant's  hand  and  say,  "  Oh, 
you  are  good ! "  Then  she  looked  up  at  Mr.  Lyon 
again  and  said,  "Is  there  in  the  world  a  prettier 
marmot  ?  " 

The  evening  passed ;  a  bed  was  made  up  for  the 
strange  woman,  and  Mr.  Lyon  had  not  asked  her  so 
much  as  her  name.  He  never  went  to  bed  himself 
that  night.  He  spent  it  in  misery,  enduring  a  hor- 
rible assault  of  Satan.  He  thought  a  frenzy  had 
seized  him.  Wild  visions  of  an  impossible  future 
thrust  themselves  upon  him.  He  dreaded  lest  the 
woman  had  a  husband;  he  wished  that  he  might 
call  her  his  own,  that  he  might  worship  her  beauty, 
that  she  might  love  and  caress  him.  And  what  to 
the  mass  of  men  would  have  been  only  one  of  many 
allowable  follies  —  a  transient  fascination,  to  be  dis- 
pelled by  daylight  and  contact  with  those  common 
facts  of  which  common-sense  is  the  reflex  —  was  to 
him  a  spiritual  convulsion.  He  was  as  one  who 
vol.  1. — 8 


H4  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

raved,  and  knew  that  lie  raved.  These  mad  wishes 
were  irreconcilable  with  what  he  was  and  must  be, 
as  a  Christian  minister ;  nay,  penetrating  his  soul  as 
tropic  heat  penetrates  the  frame,  and  changes  for  it 
all  aspects  and  all  flavours,  they  were  irreconcilable 
with  that  conception  of  the  world  which  made  his 
faith.  All  the  busy  doubt  which  had  before  been 
mere  impish  shadows  flitting  around  a  belief  that 
was  strong  with  the  strength  of  an  unswerving 
moral  bias,  had  now  gathered  blood  and  substance. 
The  questioning  spirit  had  become  suddenly  bold 
and  blasphemous :  it  no  longer  insinuated  scepti- 
cism, —  it  prompted  defiance ;  it  no  longer  expressed 
cool  inquisitive  thought,  but  was  the  voice  of  a  pas- 
sionate mood.  Yet  he  never  ceased  to  regard  it  as 
the  voice  of  the  tempter ;  the  conviction  which  had 
been  the  law  of  his  better  life  remained  within  him 
as  a  conscience. 

The  struggle  of  that  night  was  an  abridgment  of 
all  the  struggles  that  came  after.  Quick  souls  have 
their  intense.it  life  in  the  first  anticipatory  sketch 
of  what  may  or  will  be,  and  the  pursuit  of  their 
wish  is  the  pursuit  of  that  paradisiacal  vision  which 
only  impelled  them,  and  is  left  farther  and  farther 
behind,  vanishing  forever  even  out  of  hope  in  the 
moment  which  is  called  success. 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Lyon  heard  his  guest's 
history.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  French  officer 
of  considerable  rank,  who  had  fallen  in  the  Eussian 
campaign.  She  had  escaped  from  France  to  Eng- 
land with  much  difficulty  in  order  to  rejoin  her 
husband,  a  young  Englishman,  to  whom  she  had 
become  attached  during  his  detention  as  a  prisoner 
of  war  on  parole  at  Vesoul,  where  she  was  living 
under  the  charge  of  some  relatives,  and  to  whom 


EELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  115 

she  had  been  married  without  the  consent  of  hei 
family.  Her  husband  had  served  in  the  Hanoverian 
army,  had  obtained  his  discharge  in  order  to  visit 
England  on  some  business,  with  the  nature  of  which 
she  was  not  acquainted,  and  had  been  taken  prisoner 
as  a  suspected  spy.  A  short  time  after  their  mar- 
riage he  and  his  fellow-prisoners  had  been  moved 
to  a  town  nearer  the  coast,  and  she  had  remained  in 
wretched  uncertainty  about  him,  until  at  last  a 
letter  had  come  from  him  telling  her  that  an  ex- 
change of  prisoners  had  occurred,  that  he  was  in 
England,  that  she  must  use  her  utmost  effort  to 
follow  him,  and  that  on  arriving  on  English  ground 
she  must  send  him  word  under  a  cover  which  he 
enclosed,  bearing  an  address  in  London.  Fearing 
the  opposition  of  her  friends,  she  started  unknown 
to  them,  with  a  very  small  supply  of  money ;  and 
after  enduring  much  discomfort  and  many  fears  in 
waiting  for  a  passage,  which  she  at  last  got  in  a 
small  trading-smack,  she  arrived  at  Southampton — 
ill.  Before  she  was  able  to  write,  her  baby  was 
born ;  and  before  her  husband's  answer  came,  she 
had  been  obliged  to  pawn  some  clothes  and  trinkets. 
He  desired  her  to  travel  to  London,  where  he  would 
meet  her  at  the  Belle  Sauvage,  adding  that  he  was 
himself  in  distress,  and  unable  to  come  to  her; 
when  once  she  was  in  London,  they  would  take  ship 
and  quit  the  country.  Arrived  at  the  Belle  Sauvage, 
the  poor  thing  waited  three  days  in  vain  for  her 
husband ;  on  the  fourth  a  letter  came  in  a  strange 
hand,  saying  that  in  his  last  moments  he  had  de- 
sired this  letter  to  be  written  to  inform  her  of  his 
death,  and  recommend  her  to  return  to  her  friends. 
She  could  choose  no  other  course ;  but  she  had  soon 
been  reduced  to  walking,  that  she  might  save  hex 


u6  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

pence  to  buy  bread  with  ;  and  on  the  evening  when 
she  made  her  appeal  to  Mr.  Lyon,  she  had  pawned 
the  last  thing,  over  and  above  needful  clothing,  that 
she  could  persuade  herself  to  part  with.  The  things 
she  had  not  borne  to  part  with  were  her  marriage 
ring,  and  a  locket  containing  her  husband's  hair 
and  bearing  his  baptismal  name.  This  locket,  she 
said,  exactly  resembled  one  worn  by  her  husband 
on  his  watch-chain,  only  that  his  bore  the  name 
Annette,  and  contained  a  lock  of  her  hair.  The 
precious  trifle  now  hung  round  her  neck  by  a  cord, 
for  she  had  sold  the  small  gold  chain  which  for- 
merly held  it. 

The  only  guarantee  of  this  story,  besides  the  ex- 
quisite candour  of  her  face,  was  a  small  packet  of 
papers  which  she  carried  in  her  pocket,  consisting  of 
her  husband's  few  letters,  the  letter  which  announced 
his  death,  and  her  marriage  certificate.  It  was  not 
so  probable  a  story  as  that  of  many  an  inventive  va- 
grant ;  but  Mr.  Lyon  did  not  doubt  it  for  a  moment. 
It  was  impossible  to  him  to  suspect  this  angelic- 
faced  woman,  but  he  had  strong  suspicions  concern- 
ing her  husband.  He  could  not  help  being  glad 
that  she  had  not  retained  the  address  he  had  de- 
sired her  to  send  to  in  London,  as  that  removed  any 
obvious  means  of  learning  particulars  about  him. 
But  inquiries  might  have  been  made  at  Vesoul  by 
letter,  and  her  friends  there  might  have  been  ap- 
pealed to.  A  consciousness,  not  to  be  quite 
silenced,  told  Mr.  Lyon  that  this  was  the  course 
he  ought  to  take,  but  it  would  have  required  an 
energetic  self-conquest,  and  he  was  excused  from 
it  by  Annette's  own  disinclination  to  return  to  her 
relatives,  if  any  other  acceptable  possibility  could 
be  found. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  117 

He  dreaded,  with  a  violence  of  feeling  which 
surmounted  all  struggles,  lest  anything  should  take 
her  away,  and  place  such  barriers  between  them  as 
would  make  it  unlikely  or  impossible  that  she  should 
ever  love  him  well  enough  to  become  his  wife.  Yet 
he  saw  with  perfect  clearness  that  unless  he  tore  up 
this  mad  passion  by  the  roots,  his  ministerial  use- 
fulness would  be  frustrated,  and  the  repose  of  his 
soul  would  be  destroyed.  This  woman  was  an  un- 
regenerate  Catholic ;  ten  minutes'  listening  to  her 
artless  talk  made  that  plain  to  him.  Even  if  her 
position  had  been  less  equivocal,  to  unite  himself 
to  such  a  woman  was  nothing  less  than  a  spiritual 
fall.  It  was  already  a  fall  that  he  had  wished 
there  was  no  high  purpose  to  which  he  owed  an  al- 
legiance, —  that  he  had  longed  to  fly  to  some  back- 
woods where  there  was  no  church  to  reproach  him, 
and  where  he  might  have  this  sweet  woman  to 
wife,  and  know  the  joys  of  tenderness.  Those  sen- 
sibilities which  in  most  lives  are  diffused  equally 
through  the  youthful  years  were  aroused  suddenly 
in  Mr.  Lyon,  as  some  men  have  their  special  genius 
revealed  to  them  by  a  tardy  concurrence  of  condi- 
tions. His  love  was  the  first  love  of  a  fresh  young 
heart  full  of  wonder  and  worship.  But  what  to 
one  man  is  the  virtue  which  he  has  sunk  below 
the  possibility  of  aspiring  to,  is  to  another  the  back- 
sliding by  which  he  forfeits  his  spiritual  crown. 

The  end  was,  that  Annette  remained  in  his 
house.  He  had  striven  against  himself  so  far  as 
to  represent  her  position  to  some  chief  matrons  in 
his  congregation,  praying  and  yet  dreading  that 
they  would  so  take  her  by  the  hand  as  to  impose 
on  him  that  denial  of  his  own  longing  not  to  ]et 
her  go  out  of  his  sight,  which  he  found  it  too  hard 


n8  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

to  impose  on  himself.  But  they  regarded  the  case 
coldly;  the  woman  was,  after  all,  a  vagrant.  Mr. 
Lyon  was  observed  to  be  surprisingly  weak  on  the 
subject,  —  his  eagerness  seemed  disproportionate 
and  unbecoming ;  and  this  young  Frenchwoman, 
unable  to  express  herself  very  clearly,  was  no  more 
interesting  to  those  matrons  and  their  husbands 
than  other  pretty  young  women  suspiciously  cir- 
cumstanced. They  were  willing  to  subscribe  some- 
thing to  carry  her  on  her  way,  or  if  she  took  some 
lodgings  they  would  give  her  a  little  sewing,  and 
endeavour  to  convert  her  from  Papistry.  If,  how- 
ever, she  was  a  respectable  person,  as  she  said,  the 
only  proper  thing  for  her  was  to  go  back  to  her  own 
country  and  friends.  In  spite  of  himself,  Mr.  Lyon 
exulted.  There  seemed  a  reason  now  that  he 
should  keep  Annette  under  his  own  eyes.  He 
told  himself  that  no  real  object  would  be  served  by 
his  providing  food  and  lodging  for  her  elsewhere,  — 
an  expense  which  he  could  ill  afford.  And  she  was 
apparently  so  helpless,  except  as  to  the  one  task 
of  attending  to  her  baby,  that  it  would  have  been 
folly  to  think  of  her  exerting  herself  for  her  own 
support. 

But  this  course  of  his  was  severely  disapproved 
by  his  church.  There  were  various  signs  that  the 
minister  was  under  some  evil  influence  ;  his  preach- 
ing wanted  its  old  fervour,  he  seemed  to  shun  the 
intercourse  of  his  brethren,  and  very  mournful  sus- 
picions were  entertained.  A  formal  remonstrance 
was  presented  to  him,  but  he  met  it  as  if  he  had 
already  determined  to  act  in  anticipation  of  it.  He 
admitted  that  external  circumstances,  conjoined 
with  a  peculiar  state  of  mind,  were  likely  to  hinder 
the  fruitful  exercise  of  his  ministry,  and  he  resigned 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  119 

it.  There  was  much  sorrowing,  much  expostula- 
tion, but  he  declared  that  for  the  present  he  was 
unable  to  unfold  himself  more  fully ;  he  only- 
wished  to  state  solemnly  that  Annette  Ledru, 
though  blind  in  spiritual  things,  was  in  a  worldly 
sense  a  pure  and  virtuous  woman.  No  more  was 
to  be  said,  and  he  departed  to  a  distant  town. 
Here  he  maintained  himself,  Annette,  and  the 
child  with  the  remainder  of  his  stipend,  and  with 
the  wages  he  earned  as  a  printer's  reader.  Annette 
was  one  of  those  angelic-faced  helpless  women  who 
take  all  things  as  manna  from  heaven ;  the  good 
image  of  the  well-beloved  Saint  John  wished  her 
to  stay  with  him,  and  there  was  nothing  else  that 
she  wished  for  except  the  unattainable.  Yet  for 
a  whole  year  Mr.  Lyon  never  dared  to  tell  Annette 
that  he  loved  her :  he  trembled  before  this  woman ; 
he  saw  that  the  idea  of  his  being  her  lover  was  too 
remote  from  her  mind  for  her  to  have  any  idea  that 
she  ought  not  to  live  with  him.  She  had  never 
known,  never  asked  the  reason  why  he  gave  up  his 
ministry.  She  seemed  to  entertain  as  little  concern 
about  the  strange  world  in  which  she  lived  as  a 
bird  in  its  nest ;  an  avalanche  had  fallen  over  the 
past,  but  she  sat  warm  and  uncrushed,  —  there  was 
food  for  many  morrows,  and  her  baby  flourished. 
She  did  not  seem  even  to  care  about  a  priest,  or  about 
having  her  child  baptized;  and  on  the  subject  of 
religion  Mr.  Lyon  was  as  timid,  and  shrank  as  much 
from  speaking  to  her,  as  on  the  subject  of  his  love. 
He  dreaded  anything  that  might  cause  her  to  feel  a 
sudden  repulsion  towards  him.  He  dreaded  dis- 
turbing her  simple  gratitude  and  content.  In  these 
days  his  religious  faith  was  not  slumbering  ;  it  was 
awake  and  achingly  conscious  of  having  fallen  in  a 


120  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

struggle.  He  had  had  a  great  treasure  committed 
to  him,  and  had  flung  it  away ;  he  held  himself 
a  backslider.  His  unbelieving  thoughts  never 
gained  the  full  ear  and  consent  of  his  soul.  His 
prayers  had  been  stifled  by  the  sense  that  there 
was  something  he  preferred  to  complete  obedience ; 
they  had  ceased  to  be  anything  but  intermittent 
cries  and  confessions,  and  a  submissive  presenti- 
ment, rising  at  times  even  to  an  entreaty,  that  some 
great  discipline  might  come,  that  the  dulled  spirit- 
ual sense  might  be  roused  to  full  vision  and  hear- 
ing as  of  old,  and  the  supreme  facts  become  again 
supreme  in  his  soul.  Mr.  Lyon  will  perhaps  seem 
a  very  simple  personage,  with  pitiably  narrow 
theories;  but  none  of  our  theories  are  quite  large 
enough  for  all  the  disclosures  of  time,  and  to  the 
end  of  men's  struggles  a  penalty  will  remain  for 
those  who  sink  from  the  ranks  of  the  heroes  into 
the  crowd  for  whom  the  heroes  fight  and  die. 

One  day,  however,  Annette  learned  Mr.  Lyon's 
secret.  The  baby  had  a  tooth  coming,  and  being 
large  and  strong  now,  was  noisily  fretful.  Mr. 
Lyon,  though  he  had  been  working  extra  hours  and 
was  much  in  need  of  repose,  took  the  child  from  its 
mother  immediately  on  entering  the  house,  and 
walked  about  with  it,  patting  and  talking  soothingly 
to  it.  The  stronger  grasp,  the  new  sensations,  were 
a  successful  anodyne,  and  baby  went  to  sleep  on  his 
shoulder;  but  fearful  lest  any  movement  should 
disturb  it,  he  sat  down,  and  endured  the  bondage  of 
holding  it  still  against  his  shoulder. 

"  You  do  nurse  baby  well,"  said  Annette,  approv- 
ingly ;  "yet  you  never  nursed  before  I  came?" 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Lyon ;  "  I  had  no  brothers  and 
sisters." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  121 

"  Why  were  you  not  married  ? "  Annette  had 
never  thought  of  asking  that  question  hefore. 

"Because  I  never  loved  any  woman  —  till  now. 
I  thought  I  should  never  marry.  Now  I  wish  to 
marry." 

Annette  started.  She  did  not  see  at  once  that 
she  was  the  woman  he  wanted  to  marry ;  what  had 
flashed  on  her  mind  was  that  there  might  be  a  great 
change  in  Mr.  Lyon's  life.  It  was  as  if  the  lightning 
had  entered  into  her  dream  and  half  awaked  her. 

"  Do  you  think  it  foolish,  Annette,  that  I  should 
wish  to  marry  ? " 

"  I  did  not  expect  it,"  she  said  doubtfully.  "  I 
did  not  know  you  thought  about  it." 

"  You  know  the  woman  I  should  like  to  marry  ?  " 

"I  know  her?"  she  said  interrogatively,  blush- 
ing deeply. 

"  It  is  you,  Annette,  —  you,  whom  I  have  loved 
better  than  my  duty.  I  forsook  everything  for 
you." 

Mr.  Lyon  paused ;  he  was  about  to  do  what  he 
felt  would  be  ignoble,  —  to  urge  what  seemed  like  a 
claim. 

"  Can  you  love  me,  Annette  ?  Will  you  be  my 
wife  ?  "     Annette  trembled  and  looked  miserable. 

"  Do  not  speak,  —  forget  it,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  rising 
suddenly  and  speaking  with  loud  energy.  "  No,  no 
—  I  do  not  want  it,  I  do  not  wish  it." 

The  baby  awoke  as  he  started  up;  he  gave  the 
child  into  Annette's  arms,  and  left  her. 

His  work  took  him  away  early  the  next  morn- 
ing, and  the  next  again.  They  did  not  need  to 
speak  much  to  each  other.  The  third  day  Mr.  Lyon 
was  too  ill  to  go  to  work.  His  frame  had  been 
overwrought;  he  had  been  too  poor  to  have  suffi- 


122  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

ciently  nourishing  food,  and  under  the  shattering  of 
his  long-deferred  hope  his  health  had  given  way. 
They  had  no  regular  servant,  —  only  occasional  help 
from  an  old  woman,  who  lit  the  fires  and  put  on  the 
kettles.  Annette  was  forced  to  be  the  sick-nurse, 
and  this  sudden  demand  on  her  shook  away  some  of 
her  torpor.  The  illness  was  a  serious  one ;  and  the 
medical  man  one  day  hearing  Mr.  Lyon  in  his  de- 
lirium raving  with  an  astonishing  fluency  in  Bibli- 
cal language,  suddenly  looked  round  with  increased 
curiosity  at  Annette,  and  asked  if  she  were  the  sick 
man's  wife  or  some  other  relative. 

"No,  —  no  relation,"  said  Annette,  shaking  her 
head.     "  He  has  been  good  to  me." 

"  How  long  have  you  lived  with  him  ? " 

"  More  than  a  year." 

"  Was  he  a  preacher  once  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  When  did  he  leave  off  being  a  preacher  ?  * 

"  Soon  after  he  took  care  of  me." 

"  Is  that  his  child  ? " 

"  Sir,"  said  Annette,  colouring  indignantly,  "  I  am 
a  widow." 

The  doctor,  she  thought,  looked  at  her  oddly ;  but 
he  asked  no  more  questions. 

When  the  sick  man  was  getting  better,  and 
able  to  enjoy  invalid's  food,  he  observed  one  day, 
while  he  was  taking  some  broth,  that  Annette  was 
looking  at  him ;  he  paused  to  look  at  her  in  return, 
and  was  struck  with  a  new  expression  in  her  face, 
quite  distinct  from  the  merely  passive  sweetness 
which  usually  characterized  it.  She  laid  her  little 
hand  on  his,  which  was  now  transparently  thin,  and 
said,  "  I  am  getting  very  wise ;  I  have  sold  some  of 
the  books  to  make  money,  —  the   doctor  told  me 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  123 

where ;  and  I  have  looked  into  the  shops  where  they 
sell  caps  and  bonnets  and  pretty  things,  and  I  can 
do  all  that,  and  get  more  money  to  keep  us.  And 
when  you  are  well  enough  to  get  up,  we  will  go  out 
and  be  married  —  shall  we  not  ?  See !  and  la  petite  " 
(the  baby  had  never  been  named  anything  else) 
"shaU  call  you  Papa,  —  and  then  we  shall  never 
part." 

Mr.  Lyon  trembled.  This  illness  —  something 
else,  perhaps  —  had  made  a  great  change  in  Annette. 
A  fortnight  after  that  they  were  married.  The  day 
before,  he  had  ventured  to  ask  her  if  she  felt  any 
difficulty  about  her  religion,  and  if  she  would  con- 
sent to  have  la  petite  baptized  and  brought  up  as 
a  Protestant.  She  shook  her  head,  and  said  very 
simply,  — 

"No:  in  France,  in  other  days,  I  would  have 
minded ;  but  all  is  changed.  I  never  was  fond  of 
religion,  but  I  knew  it  was  right.  J'amais  les  fieurs, 
les  bals,  la  musique,  et  mon  mari,  qui  itait  beau.  But 
all  that  is  gone  away.  There  is  nothing  of  my 
religion  in  this  country.  But  the  good  God  must  be 
here,  for  you  are  good  ;  I  leave  all  to  you." 

It  was  clear  that  Annette  regarded  her  present 
life  as  a  sort  of  death  to  the  world,  —  an  existence 
on  a  remote  island  where  she  had  been  saved  from 
wreck.  She  was  too  indolent  mentally,  too  little 
interested,  to  acquaint  herself  with  any  secrets  of 
the  isle.  The  transient  energy,  the  more  vivid  con- 
sciousness and  sympathy  which  had  been  stirred  in 
her  during  Mr.  Lyon's  illness,  had  soon  subsided  into 
the  old  apathy  to  everything  except  her  child.  She 
withered  like  a  plant  in  strange  air ;  and  the  three 
years  of  life  that  remained  were  but  a  slow  and 
gentle  death.     Those  three  years  were  to  Mr.  Lyon 


124  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

a  period  of  such  self-suppression  and  life  in  another 
as  few  men  know.  Strange  that  the  passion  for 
this  woman,  which  he  felt  to  have  drawn  him  aside 
from  the  right  as  much  as  if  he  had  broken  the 
most  solemn  vows  —  for  that  only  was  right  to  him 
which  he  held  the  best  and  highest  —  the  passion 
for  a  being  who  had  no  glimpse  of  his  thoughts  in- 
duced a  more  thorough  renunciation  than  he  had 
ever  known  in  the  time  of  his  complete  devotion  to 
his  ministerial  career.  He  had  no  flattery  now, 
either  from  himself  or  the  world ;  he  knew  that  he 
had  fallen,  and  his  world  had  forgotten  him,  or 
shook  their  heads  at  his  memory.  The  only  satis- 
faction he  had  was  the  satisfaction  of  his  tenderness, 
—  which  meant  untiring  work,  untiring  patience, 
untiring  wakefulness  even  to  the  dumb  signs  of 
feeling  in  a  creature  whom  he  alone  cared  for. 

The  day  of  parting  came,  and  he  was  left  with 
little  Esther  as  the  one  visible  sign  of  that  four 
years'  break  in  his  life.  A  year  afterwards  he 
entered  the  ministry  again,  and  lived  with  the  ut- 
most sparingness,  that  Esther  might  be  so  educated 
as  to  be  able  to  get  her  own  bread  in  case  of  his 
death.  Her  probable  facility  in  acquiring  French 
naturally  suggested  his  sending  her  to  a  French 
school,  which  would  give  her  a  special  advantage 
as  a  teacher.  It  was  a  Protestant  school,  and 
French  Protestantism  had  the  high  recommendation 
of  being  non-Prelatical.  It  was  understood  that 
Esther  would  contract  no  Papistical  superstitions  ; 
and  this  was  perfectly  true ;  but  she  contracted,  as 
we  see,  a  good  deal  of  non-Papistical  vanity. 

Mr.  Lyon's  reputation  as  a  preacher  and  devoted 
pastor  had  revived ;  but  some  dissatisfaction  begin- 
ning to  be   felt  by  his  congregation  at  a  certain 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  125 

laxity  detected  by  them  in  his  views  as  to  the 
limits  of  salvation,  which  he  had  in  one  sermon 
even  hinted  might  extend  to  unconscious  recipients 
of  mercy,  he  had  found  it  desirable  seven  years  ago 
to  quit  this  ten  years'  pastorate  and  accept  a  call 
from  the  less  important  church  in  Malthouse  Yard, 
Treby  Magna. 

This  was  Rufus  Lyon's  history,  at  that  time 
unknown  in  its  fulness  to  any  human  being  besides 
himself.  We  can  perhaps  guess  what  memories 
they  were  that  relaxed  the  stringency  of  his  doc- 
trine on  the  point  of  salvation.  In  the  deepest  of 
all  senses  his  heart  said,  — 

*'  Though  she  be  dead,  yet  let  me  think  she  lives, 
And  feed  my  mind,  that  dies  for  want  of  her." 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

M.  It  was  but  yesterday  you  spoke  him  well,  — 

You  've  changed  your  mind  so  soon  1 
N.  Not  I,  —  't  is  he 

That,  changing  to  my  thought,  has  changed  my  mind. 

No  man  puts  rotten  apples  in  his  pouch 

Because  their  upper  side  looked  fair  to  him. 

Constancy  in  mistake  is  constant  folly. 

The  news  that  the  rich  heir  of  the  Transomes  was 
actually  come  back,  and  had  been  seen  at  Treby, 
was  carried  to  some  one  else  who  had  more  reasons 
for  being  interested  in  it  than  the  Rev.  Eufus 
Lyon  was  yet  conscious  of  having.  It  was  owing 
to  this  that  at  three  o'clock,  two  days  afterwards, 
a  carriage  and  pair,  with  coachman  and  footman  in 
crimson  and  drab,  passed  through  the  lodge-gates 
of  Transome  Court.  Inside  there  was  a  hale,  good- 
natured-looking  man  of  sixty,  whose  hands  rested 
on  a  knotted  stick  held  between  his  knees ;  and  a 
blue-eyed,  well-featured  lady,  fat  and  middle-aged, 
—  a  mountain  of  satin,  lace,  and  exquisite  muslin 
embroidery.  They  were  not  persons  of  highly  re- 
markable appearance,  but  to  most  Trebians  they 
seemed  absolutely  unique,  and  likely  to  be  known 
anywhere.  If  you  had  looked  down  on  them  from 
the  box  of  Sampson's  coach,  he  would  have  said, 
after  lifting  his  hat,  "  Sir  Maximus  and  his  lady,  — 
did  you  see?"  thinking  it  needless  to  add  the 
surname. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  127 

"We  shall  find  her  greatly  elated,  doubtless," 
Lady  Debarry  was  saying.  "She  has  been  in  the 
shade  so  long." 

"Ah,  poor  thing!"  said  Sir  Maximus.  "A  fine 
woman  she  was  in  her  bloom.  I  remember  the 
first  county  ball  she  attended  we  were  all  ready  to 
fight  for  the  sake  of  dancing  with  her.  I  always 
liked  her  from  that  time,  —  I  never  swallowed  the 
scandal  about  her  myself." 

"If  we  are  to  be  intimate  with  her,"  said  Lady 
Debarry,  "  I  wish  you  would  avoid  making  such 
allusions,  Sir  Maximus.  I  should  not  like  Selina 
and  Harriet  to  hear  them." 

"  My  dear,  I  should  have  forgotten  all  about  the 
scandal,  only  you  remind  me  of  it  sometimes,"  re- 
torted the  Baronet,  smiling,  and  taking  out  his 
snuff-box. 

"  These  sudden  turns  of  fortune  are  often  danger- 
ous to  an  excitable  constitution,"  said  Lady  Debarry, 
not  choosing  to  notice  her  husband's  epigram. 
"  Poor  Lady  Alicia  Methurst  got  heart-disease  from  a 
sudden  piece  of  luck,  —  the  death  of  her  uncle,  you 
know.  If  Mrs.  Transome  were  wise  she  would  go  to 
town  —  she  can  afford  it  now  —  and  consult  Dr. 
Truncheon.  I  should  say  myself  he  would  order 
her  digitalis ;  I  have  often  guessed  exactly  what  a 
prescription  would  be.  But  it  certainly  was  always 
one  of  her  weak  points  to  think  that  she  understood 
medicine  better  than  other  people." 

"  She  's  a  healthy  woman  enough,  surely  :  see  how 
upright  she  is,  and  she  rides  about  like  a  girl  of 
twenty." 

"  She  is  so  thin  that  she  makes  me  shudder." 

"  Pooh  !  she 's  slim  and  active ;  women  are  not 
bid  for  by  the  pound." 


iz8  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Pray  don't  be  so  coarse ! " 

Sir  Maximus  laughed,  and  showed  his  good  teeth, 
which  made  his  laughter  very  becoming.  The  car- 
riage stopped,  and  they  were  soon  ushered  into  Mrs. 
Transome's  sitting-room,  where  she  was  working  at 
her  worsted  embroidery.  A  little  daily  embroidery 
had  been  a  constant  element  in  Mrs.  Transome's 
life ;  that  soothing  occupation  of  taking  stitches  to 
produce  what  neither  she  nor  any  one  else  wanted, 
was  then  the  resource  of  many  a  well-born  and  un- 
happy woman. 

She  received  much  warm  congratulation  and 
pressure  of  her  hand  with  perfect  composure  of 
manner ;  but  she  became  paler  than  usual,  and  her 
hands  turned  quite  cold.  The  Debarrys  did  not 
yet  know  what  Harold's  politics  were. 

"  Well,  our  lucky  youngster  is  come  in  the  nick 
of  time,"  said  Sir  Maximus ;  "  if  he  '11  stand,  he  and 
Philip  can  run  in  harness  together  and  keep  out 
both  the  Whigs." 

"  It  is  really  quite  a  providential  thing,  —  his  re- 
turning just  now,"  said  Lady  Debarry.  "  I  could  n't 
help  thinking  that  something  would  occur  to  pre- 
vent Philip  from  having  such  a  man  as  Peter 
Garstin  for  his  colleague." 

"  I  call  my  friend  Harold  a  youngster,"  said  Sir 
Maximus  ;  "  for,  you  know,  I  remember  him  only  as 
he  was  when  that  portrait  was  taken." 

"That  is  a  long  while  ago,"  said  Mrs.  Transome. 
*  My  son  is  much  altered,  as  you  may  imagine." 

There  was  a  confused  sound  of  voices  in  the  li- 
brary while  this  talk  was  going  on.  Mrs.  Transome 
chose  to  ignore  that  noise  ;  but  her  face,  from  being 
pale,  began  to  flush  a  little. 

"  Yes,  yes,  on  the  outside,  I  dare  say.     But  he  was 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL  129 

a  fine  fellow,  —  I  always  liked  him.  And  if  anybody 
had  asked  me  what  I  should  choose  for  the  good  of 
the  county,  I  could  n't  have  thought  of  anything 
better  than  having  a  young  Transome  for  a  neighbour 
who  will  take  an  active  part.  The  Transomes  and 
the  Debarrys  were  always  on  the  right  side  together 
in  old  days.  Of  course  he  '11  stand,  —  he  has  made 
up  his  mind  to  it  ? " 

The  need  for  an  answer  to  this  embarrassing  ques- 
tion was  deferred  by  the  increase  of  inarticulate 
sounds  accompanied  by  a  bark  from  the  library,  and 
the  sudden  appearance  at  the  tapestry-hung  door- 
way of  old  Mr.  Transome  with  a  cord  round  his 
waist,  playing  a  very  poor-paced  horse  for  a  black- 
maned  little  boy  about  three  years  old,  who  was 
urging  him  on  with  loud  encouraging  noises  and  oc- 
casional thumps  from  a  stick  which  he  wielded  with 
some  difficulty.  The  old  man  paused  with  a  vague, 
gentle  smile  at  the  doorway,  while  the  Baronet  got 
up  to  speak  to  him.  Nimrod  snuffed  at  his  master's 
legs  to  ascertain  that  he  was  not  hurt ;  and  the  little 
boy,  finding  something  new  to  be  looked  at,  let  go 
the  cord  and  came  round  in  front  of  the  company, 
dragging  his  stick,  and  standing  at  a  safe  war-danc- 
ing distance  as  he  fixed  his  great  black  eyes  on 
Lady  Debarry. 

"  Dear  me,  what  a  splendid  little  boy,  Mrs.  Tran- 
some !  Why  —  it  cannot  be  —  can  it  be — that  you 
have  the  happiness  to  be  a  grandmamma  ? " 

"  Yes  ;  that  is  my  son's  little  boy." 

"  Indeed  ! "  said  Lady  Debarry,  really  amazed. 
"  I  never  heard  you  speak  of  his  marriage.  He  has 
brought  you  home  a  daughter-in-law,  then  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Transome,  coldly;  "  she  is  dead." 

"  O-o-oh ! "  said  Lady  Debarry,   in  a  tone   ludi- 

VOL.  I.  —  9 


130  FELTX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

crously  undecided  between  condolence,  satisfaction, 
and  general  mistiness.  "  How  very  singular  —  I 
mean  that  we  should  not  have  heard  of  Mr. 
Harold's  marriage !  But  he 's  a  charming  little 
fellow  :  come  to  me,  you  round-cheeked  cherub  !  " 

The  black  eyes  continued  fixed  as  if  by  a  sort  of 
fascination  on  Lady  Debarry's  face,  and  her  affable 
invitation  was  unheeded.  At  last,  putting  his  heed 
forward  and  pouting  his  lips,  the  cherub  gave  forth 
with  marked  intention  the  sounds  "  Nau-o-oom," 
many  times  repeated;  apparently  they  summed 
up  his  opinion  of  Lady  Debarry,  and  may  perhaps 
have  meant  "naughty  old  woman,"  but  his  speech 
was  a  broken,  lisping  polyglot  of  hazardous  inter- 
pretation. Then  he  turned  to  pull  at  the  Blenheim 
spaniel,  which,  being  old  and  peevish,  gave  a  little 
snap. 

"  Go,  go,  Harry ;  let  poor  Puff  alone,  —  he  '11  bite 
you,"  said  Mrs.  Transome,  stooping  to  release  her 
aged  pet. 

Her  words  were  too  suggestive  ;  for  Harry  imme- 
diately laid  hold  of  her  arm  with  his  teeth,  and  bit 
with  all  his  might.  Happily  the  stuffs  upon  it  were 
some  protection,  but  the  pain  forced  Mrs.  Transome 
to  give  a  low  cry;  and  Sir  Maximus,  who  had  now 
turned  to  reseat  himself,  shook  the  little  rascal  off, 
whereupon  he  burst  away  and  trotted  into  the  li- 
brary again. 

"  I  fear  you  are  hurt,"  said  Lady  Debarry,  with 
sincere  concern.  "  What  a  little  savage  !  Do  have 
your  arm  attended  to,  my  dear  —  I  recommend 
fomentation  —  don't  think  of  me." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  it  is  nothing,"  said  Mrs.  Tran- 
some, biting  her  lip  and  smiling  alternately  ;"  it 
will  soon  go  off.     The  pleasures  of  being  a  grand- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  131 

mamma,  you  perceive.  The  child  has  taken  a  dis- 
like to  me ;  but  he  makes  quite  a  new  life  for  Mr. 
Transome,  —  they  were  playfellows  at  once." 

"Bless  my  heart !"  said  Sir  Maximus,  "it  is  odd 
to  think  of  Harold  having  been  a  family  man  so 
long.  I  made  up  my  mind  he  was  a  young  bachelor. 
What  an  old  stager  I  am,  to  be  sure  !  And  whom 
has  he  married  ?  I  hope  we  shall  soon  have  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  Mrs.  Harold  Transome."  Sir 
Maximus,  occupied  with  old  Mr.  Transome,  had 
not  overheard  the  previous  conversation  on  that 
subject. 

"  She  is  no  longer  living,"  Lady  Debarry  hastily 
interposed ;  "  but  now,  my  dear  Sir  Maximus,  we 
must  not  hinder  Mrs.  Transome  from  attending  to 
her  arm.  I  am  sure  she  is  in  pain.  Don't  say 
another  word,  my  dear,  —  we  shall  see  you  again,  — 
you  and  Mr.  Harold  will  come  and  dine  with  us  on 
Thursday  —  say  yes,  only  yes.  Sir  Maximus  is 
longing  to  see  him ;  and  Philip  will  be  down." 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  said  Sir  Maximus  ;  "  he  must  lose 
no  time  in  making  Philip's  acquaintance.  Tell  him 
Philip  is  a  fine  fellow,  —  carried  everything  before 
him  at  Oxford.  And  your  son  must  be  returned 
along  with  him  for  North  Loamshire.  You  said 
he  meant  to  stand  ? " 

"  I  will  write  and  let  you  know  if  Harold  has 
any  engagement  for  Thursday ;  he  would  of  course 
be  happy  otherwise,"  said  Mrs.  Transome  evading 
the  question. 

"  If  not  Thursday,  the  next  day,  —  the  very  first 
day  he  can." 

The  visitors  left,  and  Mrs.  Transome  was  almost 
glad  of  the  painful  bite  which  had  saved  her  from 
being  questioned  further   about   Harold's    politics. 


i32  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  This  is  the  last  visit  I  shall  receive  from  them," 
she  said  to  herself  as  the  door  closed  behind  them 
and  she  rang  for  Denner. 

"  That  poor  creature  is  not  happy,  Sir  Maximus," 
said  Lady  Debarry  as  they  drove  along.  "  Some- 
thing annoys  her  about  her  son.  I  hope  there  is 
nothing  unpleasant  in  his  character.  Either  he 
kept  his  marriage  a  secret  from  her,  or  she  was 
ashamed  of  it.  He  is  thirty-four  at  least  by  this 
time.  After  living  in  the  East  so  long,  he  may 
have  become  a  sort  of  person  one  would  not  care  to 
be  intimate  with;  and  that  savage  boy, — he  doesn't 
look  like  a  lady's  child." 

"  Pooh,  my  dear,"  said  Sir  Maximus,  "  women 
think  so  much  of  those  minutiae  In  the  present 
state  of  the  country  it  is  our  duty  to  look  at  a 
man's  position  and  politics.  Philip  and  my  brother 
are  both  of  that  opinion,  and  I  think  they  know 
what's  right,  if  any  man  does.  We  are  bound 
to  regard  every  man  of  our  party  as  a  public 
instrument,  and  to  pull  all  together.  The  Tran- 
somes  have  always  been  a  good  Tory  family,  but  it 
has  been  a  cipher  of  late  years.  This  young  fellow 
coming  back  with  a  fortune  to  give  the  family  a 
head  and  a  position  is  a  clear  gain  to  the  county  ; 
and  with  Philip  he  '11  get  into  the  right  hands,  — 
of  course  he  wants  guiding,  having  been  out  of  the 
country  so  long.  All  we  have  to  ask  is,  whether  a 
man 's  a  Tory,  and  will  make  a  stand  for  the  good 
of  the  country  ?  —  that 's  the  plain  English  of  the 
matter.  And  I  do  beg  of  you,  my  dear,  to  set  aside 
all  these  gossiping  niceties,  and  exert  yourself,  like 
a  woman  of  sense  and  spirit  as  you  are,  to  bring  the 
right  people  together." 

Here  Sir  Maximus  gave  a  deep  cough,  took  out 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  133 

his  snuff-box,  and  tapped  it ;  he  had  made  a  serious 
marital  speech,  —  an  exertion  to  which  he  was  rarely 
urged  by  anything  smaller  than  a  matter  of  con- 
science. And  this  outline  of  the  whole  duty  of  a 
Tory  was  matter  of  conscience  with  him ;  though 
the  "  Duffield  Watchman  "  had  pointed  expressly  to 
Sir  Maximus  Debarry  amongst  others,  in  branding 
the  co-operation  of  the  Tories  as  a  conscious  selfish- 
ness and  reckless  immorality,  which,  however,  would 
be  defeated  by  the  co-operation  of  all  the  friends  of 
truth  and  liberty,  who,  the  "Watchman"  trusted, 
would  subordinate  all  non-political  differences  in 
order  to  return  representatives  pledged  to  support 
the  present  Government. 

"  I  am  sure,  Sir  Maximus,"  Lady  Debarry  an- 
swered, "  you  could  not  have  observed  that  anything 
was  wanting  in  my  manners  to  Mrs.  Transome." 

"  No,  no,  my  dear ;  but  I  say  this  by  way  o? 
caution.  Never  mind  what  was  done  at  Smyrna,  or 
whether  Transome  likes  to  sit  with  his  heels  tucked 
up.  We  may  surely  wink  at  a  few  things  for  the 
sake  of  the  public  interest,  if  God  Almighty  does ; 
and  if  he  didn't,  I  don't  know  what  would  have 
become  of  the  country,  —  Government  could  never 
have  been  carried  on,  and  many  a  good  battle  would 
have  been  lost.  That's  the  philosophy  of  the 
matter,  and  the  common-sense  too." 

Good  Sir  Maximus  gave  a  deep  cough  and  tapped 
his  box  again,  inwardly  remarking  that  if  he  had 
not  been  such  a  lazy  fellow  he  might  have  made  as 
good  p.  figure  as  his  son  Philip. 

But  at  this  point  the  carriage,  which  was  rolling 
by  a  turn  towards  Treby  Magna,  passed  a  well- 
dressed  man,  who  raised  his  hat  to  Sir  Maximus, 
and  called  to  the  coachman  to  stop. 


134  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Excuse  me,  Sir  Maximus,"  said  this  personage, 
standing  uncovered  at  the  carriage-door,  "but  I 
have  just  learned  something  of  importance  at  Treby, 
which  I  thought  you  would  like  to  know  as  soon  as 
possible." 

"  Ah  !  what 's  that  ?  Something  about  Garstin  or 
Clement  ? "  said  Sir  Maximus,  seeing  the  other 
draw  a  poster  from  his  pocket. 

"No;  rather  worse,  I  fear  you  will  think.  A 
new  Radical  candidate.  I  got  this  by  a  stratagem 
from  the  printer's  boy.     They  're  not  posted  yet." 

"  A  Radical ! "  said  Sir  Maximus,  in  a  tone  of 
incredulous  disgust,  as  he  took  the  folded  bill. 
"  What  fool  is  he  ?  —  he  '11  have  no  chance." 

"  They  say  he 's  richer  than  Garstin." 

"  Harold  Transome ! "  shouted  Sir  Maximus,  as  he 
read  the  name  in  three-inch  letters.  "  I  don't  be- 
lieve it,  —  it  *s  a  trick,  it 's  a  squib  ;  why  —  why 
—  we  've  just  been  to  his  place  —  eh  ?  do  you  know 
any  more  ?  Speak,  sir,  speak  ;  don't  deal  out  your 
story  like  a  damned  mountebank,  who  wants  to 
keep  people  gaping." 

"Sir  Maximus,  pray  don't  give  way  so,"  said 
Lady  Debarry. 

"  I  'm  afraid  there  's  no  doubt  about  it,  sir,"  said 
Christian.  "  After  getting  the  bill,  I  met  Mr.  La- 
bron's  clerk,  and  he  said  he  had  just  had  the  whole 
story  from  Jermyn's  clerk.  The  Earn  Inn  is  engaged 
already,  and  a  committee  is  being  made  up.  He  says 
Jermyn  goes  like  a  steam-engine,  when  he  has  a 
mind,  although  he  makes  such  long-winded  speeches." 

"  Jermyn  be  hanged  for  a  two-faced  rascal !  Tell 
Mitchell  to  drive  on.  It 's  of  no  use  to  stay  chat- 
tering here.  Jump  up  on  the  box  and  go  home 
with  us.     I  may  want  you." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  135 

"You  see  I  was  right,  Sir  Maximus,"  said  the 
Baronet's  wife  ;  "  I  had  an  instinct  that  we  should 
find  him  an  unpleasant  person." 

"  Fudge !  if  you  had  such  a  fine  instinct,  why  did 
you  let  us  go  to  Transome  Court  and  make  fools 
of  ourselves  ? " 

"  Would  you  have  listened  to  me  ?  But  of  course 
you  will  not  have  him  to  dine  with  you  ? " 

"  Dine  with  me  ?  I  should  think  not.  I  'd 
sooner  he  should  dine  off  me.  I  see  how  it  is, 
clearly  enough.  He  has  become  a  regular  beast 
among  those  Mahometans,  —  he's  got  neither  reli- 
gion nor  morals  left.  He  can't  know  anything 
about  English  politics.  He  '11  go  and  cut  his  own 
nose  off  as  a  landholder,  and  never  know.  How- 
ever, he  won't  get  in,  —  he  '11  spend  his  money  for 
nothing." 

"  I  fear  he  is  a  very  licentious  man,"  said  Lady 
Debarry.  "  We  know  now  why  his  mother  seemed 
so  uneasy.  I  should  think  she  reflects  a  little,  poor 
creature." 

"  It 's  a  confounded  nuisance  we  did  n't  meet 
Christian  on  our  way,  instead  of  coming  back ; 
but  better  now  than  later.  He's  an  uncommonly 
adroit,  useful  fellow,  that  factotum  of  Philip's.  I 
wish  Phil  would  take  my  man  and  give  me  Chris- 
tian. I  'd  make  him  house-steward ;  he  might  re- 
duce the  accounts  a  little." 

Perhaps  Sir  Maximus  would  not  have  been  so 
sanguine  as  to  Mr.  Christian's  economical  virtues 
if  he  had  seen  that  gentleman  relaxing  himself  the 
same  evening  among  the  other  distinguished  depen- 
dants of  the  family  and  frequenters  of  the  steward's 
room.  But  a  man  of  Sir  Maximus's  rank  is  like 
those  antediluvian   animals  whom   the   system   of 


136  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

things  condemned  to  carry  such  a  huge  bulk  that 
they  really  could  not  inspect  their  bodily  appurte- 
nance, and  had  no  conception  of  their  own  tails : 
their  parasites  doubtless  had  a  merry  time  of  it, 
and  often  did  extremely  well  when  the  high-bred 
saurian  himself  was  ill  at  ease.  Treby  Manor, 
measured  from  the  front  saloon  to  the  remotest 
shed,  was  as  large  as  a  moderate-sized  village,  and 
there  were  certainly  more  lights  burning  in  it  every 
evening,  more  wine,  spirits,  and  ale  drunk,  more 
waste  and  more  folly,  than  could  be  found  in  some 
large  villages.  There  was  fast  revelry  in  the  stew- 
ard's room,  and  slow  revelry  in  the  Scotch  bailiffs 
room;  short  whist,  costume,  and  flirtation  in  the 
housekeeper's  room,  and  the  same  at  a  lower  price 
in  the  servants'  hall ;  a  select  Olympian  feast  in 
the  private  apartment  of  the  cook,  who  was  a  much 
grander  person  than  her  ladyship,  and  wore  gold 
and  jewellery  to  a  vast  amount  of  suet ;  a  gambling 
group  in  the  stables,  and  the  coachman,  perhaps  the 
most  innocent  member  of  the  establishment,  tip- 
pling in  majestic  solitude  by  a  fire  in  the  harness- 
room.  For  Sir  Maximus,  as  every  one  said,  was 
a  gentleman  of  the  right  sort,  condescended  to  no 
mean  inquiries,  greeted  his  head-servants  with  a 
"good-evening,  gentlemen,"  when  he  met  them  in 
the  Park,  and  only  snarled  in  a  subdued  way  when 
he  looked  over  the  accounts,  willing  to  endure  some 
personal  inconvenience  in  order  to  keep  up  the 
institutions  of  the  country,  to  maintain  his  heredi- 
tary establishment,  and  do  his  duty  in  that  station 
of  life  —  the  station  of  the  long-tailed  saurian  — 
to  which  it  had  pleased  Providence  to  call  him. 

The  focus  of  brilliancy  at  Treby  Manor  that  even- 
ing  was   in   no  way   the   dining-room,   where   Sir 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  137 

Maximus  sipped  his  port  under  some  mental  de- 
pression, as  he  discussed  with  his  brother,  the  Rev- 
erend Augustus,  the  sad  fact  that  one  of  the  oldest 
names  in  the  county  was  to  be  on  the  wrong  side, 
—  not  in  the  drawing-room,  where  Miss  Debarry 
and  Miss  Selina,  quietly  elegant  in  their  dress  and 
manners,  were  feeling  rather  dull  than  otherwise, 
having  finished  Mr.  Bulwer's  "Eugene  Aram,"  and 
being  thrown  back  on  the  last  great  prose  work 
of  Mr.  Southey,  while  their  mamma  slumbered  a 
little  on  the  sofa.  No ;  the  centre  of  eager  talk  and 
enjoyment  was  the  steward's  room,  where  Mr. 
Scales,  house-steward  and  head-butler,  a  man  most 
solicitous  about  his  boots,  wristbands,  the  roll  of 
his  whiskers,  and  other  attributes  of  a  gentleman, 
distributed  cigars,  cognac,  and  whiskey  to  various 
colleagues  and  guests  who  were  discussing,  with 
that  freedom  of  conjecture  which  is  one  of  our  in- 
alienable privileges  as  Britons,  the  probable  amount 
of  Harold  Transome's  fortune,  concerning  which 
fame  had  already  been  busy  long  enough  to  have 
acquired  vast  magnifying  power. 

The  chief  part  in  this  scene  was  undoubtedly 
Mr.  Christian's,  although  he  had  hitherto  been 
comparatively  silent;  but  he  occupied  two  chairs 
with  so  much  grace,  throwing  his  right  leg  over 
the  seat  of  the  second,  and  resting  his  right  hand 
on  the  back;  he  held  his  cigar  and  displayed  a 
splendid  seal-ring  with  such  becoming  nonchalance, 
and  had  his  gray  hair  arranged  with  so  much  taste,  — ■ 
that  experienced  eyes  would  at  once  have  seen  even 
the  great  Scales  himself  to  be  but  a  secondary 
character. 

"  Why,"  said  Mr.  Crowder,  —  an  old  respectable 
tenant,  though  much  in  arrear  as  to  his  rent,  who 


138  EELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

condescended  frequently  to  drink  in  the  steward's 
room  for  the  sake  of  the  conversation, — "why,  I 
suppose  they  get  money  so  fast  in  the  East,  —  it 's 
wonderful.  Why,"  he  went  on,  with  a  hesitating 
look  towards  Mr.  Scales,  "  this  Transome  has  p'r'aps 
got  a  matter  of  a  hundred  thousand." 

"  A  hundred  thousand,  my  dear  sir !  fiddlestick's 
end  of  a  hundred  thousand,"  said  Mr.  Scales,  with  a 
contempt  very  painful  to  be  borne  by  a  modest  man. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Crowder,  giving  way  under  tor- 
ture, as  the  all-knowing  butler  puffed  and  stared  at 
him,  "perhaps  not  so  much  as  that." 

"  Not  so  much,  sir !  I  tell  you  that  a  hundred 
thousand  pounds  is  a  bagatelle." 

"  Well,  I  know  it 's  a  big  sum,"  said  Mr.  Crowder, 
deprecatingly. 

Here  there  was  a  general  laugh.  All  the  other 
intellects  present  were  more  cultivated  than  Mr. 
Crowder's. 

"Bagatelle  is  the  French  for  trifle,  my  friend," 
said  Mr.  Christian.  "  Don't  talk  over  people's  heads 
so,  Scales.  I  shall  have  hard  work  to  understand 
you  myself  soon." 

"  Come,  that 's  a  good  one,"  said  the  head-gar- 
dener, who  was  a  ready  admirer ;  "  I  should  like  to 
hear  the  thing  you  don't  understand,  Christian." 

"  He 's  a  first-rate  hand  at  sneering,"  said  Mr. 
Scales,  rather  nettled. 

"  Don't  be  waspish,  man.  I  '11  ring  the  bell  for 
lemons,  and  make  some  punch.  That's  the  thing 
for  putting  people  up  to  the  unknown  tongues," 
said  Mr.  Christian,  starting  up,  and  slapping  Scales's 
shoulder  as  he  passed  him. 

"  What  I  mean,  Mr.  Crowder,  is  this."  Here  Mr. 
Scales  paused  to  puff,  and  pull  down  his  waistcoat 


EELTX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  139 

in  a  gentlemanly  manner,  and  drink.  He  was 
wont  in  this  way  to  give  his  hearers  time  for 
meditation. 

"  Come,  then,  speak  English  ;  I  'm  not  against 
being  taught,"  said  the  reasonable  Crowder. 

"  What  I  mean  is,  that  in  a  large  way  of  trade  a 
man  turns  his  capital  over  almost  as  soon  as  he 
can  turn  himself.  Bless  your  soul !  I  know  some- 
thing about  these  matters,  eh,  Brent  ? " 

"  To  be  sure  you  do,  —  few  men  more,"  said  the 
gardener,  who  was  the  person  appealed  to. 

"  Not  that  I  've  had  anything  to  do  with  commer- 
cial families  myself.  I  've  those  feelings  that  I  look 
to  other  things  besides  lucre.  But  I  can't  say  that 
I  've  not  been  intimate  with  parties  who  have  been 
less  nice  than  I  am  myself ;  and  knowing  what  I 
know,  I  should  n't  wonder  if  Transome  had  as 
much  as  five  hundred  thousand.  Bless  your  soul, 
sir',  people  who  get  their  money  out  of  land  are 
as  long  scraping  five  pounds  together  as  your 
trading  men  are  in  turning  five  pounds  into  a 
hundred." 

"  That 's  a  wicked  thing,  though,"  said  Mr.  Crow- 
der, meditatively.  "  However,"  he  went  on,  retreat- 
ing from  this  difficult  ground,  "  trade  or  no  trade, 
the  Transomes  have  been  poor  enough  this  many  a 
long  year.  I  've  a  brother  a  tenant  on  their  estate, 
—  I  ought  to  know  a  little  bit  about  that." 

"  They  've  kept  up  no  establishment  at  all,"  said 
Mr.  Scales,  with  disgust.  "  They  've  even  let  their 
kitchen  gardens.  I  suppose  it  was  the  eldest  son's 
gambling.  I've  seen  something  of  that.  A  man 
who  has  always  lived  in  first-rate  families  is  likely 
to  know  a  thing  or  two  on  that  subject." 

"Ah,  but  it  wasn't  gambling  did  the  first  mis- 


i4o  EELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

chief,"  said  Mr.  Crowder,  with  a  slight  smile,  feel- 
ing that  it  was  his  turn  to  have  some  superiority. 
"  New-comers  don't  know  what  happened  in  this 
country  twenty  and  thirty  years  ago.  I  'm  turned 
fifty  myself,  and  my  father  lived  under  Sir  Maxum's 
father.  But  if  anybody  from  London  can  tell  me 
more  than  I  know  about  this  country-side,  I'm 
willing  to  listen." 

"  What  was  it,  then,  if  it  was  n't  gambling  ? "  said 
Mr.  Scales,  with  some  impatience.  "  /  don't  pre- 
tend to  know." 

"  It  was  law,  —  law,  —  that 's  what  it  was.  Not 
but  what  the  Transomes  always  won." 

"And  always  lost,"  said  the  too  ready  Scales. 
"  Yes,  yes ;  I  think  we  all  know  the  nature  of 
law." 

"  There  was  the  last  suit  of  all  made  the  most 
noise,  as  I  understood,"  continued  Mr.  Crowder ; 
"  but  it  was  n't  tried  hereabout.  They  said  there 
was  a  deal  o'  false  swearing.  Some  young  man 
pretended  to  be  the  true  heir,  —  let  me  see,  —  I 
can't  justly  remember  the  names,  —  he  'd  got  two. 
He  swore  he  was  one  man,  and  they  swore  he  was 
another.  However,  Lawyer  Jermyn  won  it,  —  they 
say  he  'd  win  a  game  against  the  Old  One  himself, 
—  and  the  young  fellow  turned  out  to  be  a  scamp. 
Stop  a  bit,  —  his  name  was  Scaddon,  —  Henry 
Scaddon." 

Mr.  Christian  here  let  a  lemon  slip  from  his  hand 
into  the  punch-bowl  with  a  plash  which  sent  some 
of  the  nectar  into  the  company's  faces. 

*  Hallo !  What  a  bungler  I  am!"  he  said,  look- 
ing as  if  he  were  quite  jarred  by  this  unusual  awk- 
wardness of  his.  "Go  on  with  your  tale,  Mr 
Crowder,  —  a  scamp  named  Henry  Scaddon." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  141 

"  Well,  that  'a  the  tale,"  said  Mr.  Crowder.  "  He 
was  never  seen  nothing  of  any  more.  It  was  a  deal 
talked  of  at  the  time,  —  and  I  've  sat  hy ;  and  my 
father  used  to  shake  his  head ;  and  always  when 
this  Mrs.  Transome  was  talked  of,  he  used  to  shake 
his  head,  and  say  she  carried  things  with  a  high 
hand  once.  But,  Lord  !  it  was  before  the  battle  of 
Waterloo,  and  I  'm  a  poor  hand  at  tales ;  I  don't  see 
much  good  in  'em  myself,  —  but  if  anybody  '11  tell 
me  a  cure  for  the  sheep-rot  I  '11  thank  him." 

Here  Mr.  Crowder  relapsed  into  smoking  and 
silence,  a  little  discomfited  that  the  knowledge  of 
which  he  had  been  delivered  had  turned  out  rather 
a  shapeless  and  insignificant  birth. 

"  Well,  well,  bygones  should  be  bygones ;  there 
are  secrets  in  most  good  families,"  said  Mr.  Scales, 
winking,  "  and  this  Young  Transome,  coming  back 
with  a  fortune  to  keep  up  the  establishment,  and 
have  things  done  in  a  decent  and  gentlemanly 
way, —  it  would  all  have  been  right  if  he'd  not 
been  this  sort  of  Radical  madman.  But  now  he  's 
done  for  himself.  I  heard  Sir  Maximus  say  at 
dinner  that  he  would  be  excommunicated ;  and 
that 's  a  pretty  strong  word,  I  take  it." 

"  What  does  it  mean,  Scales  ? "  said  Mr.  Christian, 
who  loved  tormenting. 

"  Ay,  what 's  the  meaning  ?  "  insisted  Mr.  Crow- 
der, encouraged  by  finding  that  even  Christian  was 
in  the  dark. 

"  Well,  it 's  a  law  term,  —  speaking  in  a  figurative 
sort  of  way,  —  meaning  that  a  Radical  was  no 
gentleman." 

"  Perhaps  it 's  partly  accounted  for  by  his  getting 
his  money  so  fast  and  in  foreign  countries,"  said 
Mr.  Crowder,  tentatively.    "  It's  reasonable  to  think 


1 42  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

he'd  be  against  the  land  and  this  country,  —  eh, 
Sircome  ? " 

Sircome  was  an  eminent  miller  who  had  con- 
siderable business  transactions  at  the  Manor, 
and  appreciated  Mr.  Scales's  merits  at  a  handsome 
percentage  on  the  yearly  account.  He  was  a 
highly  honourable  tradesman,  but  in  this  and  in 
other  matters  submitted  to  the  institutions  of  his 
country ;  for  great  houses,  as  he  observed,  must 
have  great  butlers.  He  replied  to  his  friend  Crow- 
der  sententiously,  — 

"  I  say  nothing.  Before  I  bring  words  to  market, 
I  should  like  to  see  'em  a  bit  scarcer.  There  's  the 
land  and  there 's  trade,  —  I  hold  with  both.  I 
swim  with  the  stream." 

"  Hey-day,  Mr.  Sircome  !  that 's  a  Eadical  maxim," 
said  Mr.  Christian,  who  knew  that  Mr.  Sircome's 
last  sentence  was  his  favourite  formula.  "  I  advise 
you  to  give  it  up,  else  it  will  injure  the  quality  of 
your  flour." 

"  A  Eadical  maxim ! "  said  Mr.  Sircome,  in  a  tone 
of  angry  astonishment.  "  I  should  like  to  hear  you 
prove  that.     It 's  as  old  as  my  grandfather,  anyhow." 

"  I  '11  prove  it  in  one  minute,"  said  the  glib 
Christian.  "  Reform  has  set  in  by  the  will  of  the 
majority,  —  that 's  the  rabble,  you  know ;  and  the 
respectability  and  good  sense  of  the  country,  which 
are  in  the  minority,  are  afraid  of  Reform  running  on 
too  fast.  So  the  stream  must  be  running  towards 
Reform  and  Radicalism  ;  and  if  you  swim  with  it,  Mr. 
Sircome,  you  're  a  Reformer  and  a  Radical,  and  your 
flour  is  objectionable,  and  not  full  weight,  —  and 
being  tried  by  Scales,  will  be  found  wanting." 

There  was  a  roar  of  laughter.  This  pun  upon 
Scales  was  highly  appreciated  by  every  one  except 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  143 

the  miller  and  the  butler.  The  latter  pulled  down 
his  waistcoat,  and  puffed  and  stared  in  rather  an 
excited  manner.  Mr.  Christian's  wit,  in  general, 
seemed  to  him  a  poor  kind  of  quibbling. 

"  What  a  fellow  you  are  for  fence,  Christian  ! "  said 
the  gardener.  "  Hang  me,  if  I  don't  think  you  're 
up  to  everything." 

"  That 's  a  compliment  you  might  pay  Old  Nick, 
if  you  come  to  that,"  said  Mr.  Sircome,  who  was 
in  the  painful  position  of  a  man  deprived  of  his 
formula. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Scales ;  "  I  'm  no  fool  myself, 
and  could  parry  a  thrust  if  I  liked ;  but  I  should  n't 
like  it  to  be  said  of  me  that  I  was  up  to  everything. 
I  '11  keep  a  little  principle,  if  you  please." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  Christian,  ladling  out  the 
punch.     "  What  would  justice  be  without  Scales  ?  " 

The  laughter  was  not  quite  so  full-throated  as 
before.  Such  excessive  cleverness  was  a  little 
Satanic. 

"A  joke's  a  joke  among  gentlemen,"  said  the 
butler,  getting  exasperated ;  "  I  think  there  has 
been  quite  liberties  enough  taken  with  my  name. 
But  if  you  must  talk  about  names,  I  've  heard  of  a 
party  before  now  calling  himself  a  Christian,  and 
being  anything  but  it." 

"  Come,  that 's  beyond  a  joke,"  said  the  surgeon's 
assistant,  —  a  fast  man,  whose  chief  scene  of  dissi- 
pation was  the  Manor.     "  Let  it  drop,  Scales." 

"  Yes,  I  dare  say  it 's  beyond  a  joke.  I  'm  not  a 
harlequin  to  talk  nothing  but  jokes.  I  leave  that 
to  other  Christians,  who  are  up  to  everything,  and 
have  been  everywhere,  —  to  the  hulks,  for  what  I 
know;  and  more  than  that,  they  come  from  no- 
body knows  where,  and  try  to  worm  themselves 


144  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

into  gentlemen's  confidence,  to  the  prejudice  of  their 
betters." 

There  was  a  stricter  sequence  in  Mr.  Scales's 
angry  eloquence  than  was  apparent,  —  some  chief 
links  being  confined  to  his  own  breast,  as  is  often 
the  case  in  energetic  discourse.  The  company  were 
in  a  state  of  expectation.  There  was  something  be- 
hind worth  knowing,  and  something  before  them 
worth  seeing.  In  the  general  decay  of  other  fine 
British  pugnacious  sports,  a  quarrel  between  gen- 
tlemen was  all  the  more  exciting ;  and  though  no 
one  would  himself  have  liked  to  turn  on  Scales,  no 
one  was  sorry  for  the  chance  of  seeing  him  put 
down.  But  the  amazing  Christian  was  unmoved. 
He  had  taken  out  his  handkerchief,  and  was  rubbing 
his  lips  carefully.  After  a  slight  pause  he  spoke 
with  perfect  coolness  :  — 

"  I  don't  intend  to  quarrel  with  you,  Scales.  Such 
talk  as  this  is  not  profitable  to  either  of  us.  It 
makes  you  purple  in  the  face,  —  you  are  apoplectic, 
you  know,  —  and  it  spoils  good  company.  Better 
tell  a  few  fibs  about  me  behind  my  back,  —  it  will 
heat  you  less,  and  do  me  more  harm.  I  '11  leave 
you  to  it ;  I  shall  go  and  have  a  game  at  whist 
with  the  ladies." 

As  the  door  closed  behind  the  questionable 
Christian,  Mr.  Scales  was  in  a  state  of  frustration 
that  prevented  speech.  Every  one  was  rather 
embarrassed. 

"  That 's  a  most  uncommon  sort  o'  fellow,"  said 
Mr.  Crowder,  in  an  undertone,  to  his  next  neigh- 
bour, the  gardener.  "  Why,  Mr.  Philip  picked  him 
up  in  foreign  parts,  did  n't  he  ? " 

"  He  was  a  courier,"  said  the  gardener.  "  He 's 
had  a  deal  of  experience.     And  I  believe,  by  what 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  145 

I  can  make  out,  —  for  he 's  been  pretty  free  with 
me  sometimes,  —  there  was  a  time  when  he  was  in 
that  rank  of  life  that  he  fought  a  duel." 

"  Ah !  that  makes  him  such  a  cool  chap,"  said 
Mr.  Crowder. 

"  He  's  what  I  call  an  overbearing  fellow,"  said 
Mr.  Sircome,  also  sotto  voce,  to  his  next  neighbour, 
Mr.  Filmore,  the  surgeon's  assistant.  "  He  runs 
you  down  with  a  sort  of  talk  that 's  neither  here 
nor  there.  He's  got  a  deal  too  many  samples  in 
his  pocket  for  me." 

"  All  I  know  is,  he 's  a  wonderful  hand  at  cards," 
said  Mr.  Filmore,  whose  whiskers  and  shirt-pin 
were  quite  above  the  average.  "  I  wish  I  could 
play  ecarte  as  he  does ;  it 's  beautiful  to  see  him ;  he 
can  make  a  man  look  pretty  blue,  —  he  '11  empty 
his  pocket  for  him  in  no  time." 

"  That 's  none  to  his  credit,"  said  Mr.  Sircome. 

The  conversation  had  in  this  way  broken  up  into 
Ute-db-tite,  and  the  hilarity  of  the  evening  might  be 
considered  a  failure.  Still  the  punch  was  drunk, 
the  accounts  were  duly  swelled,  and  notwithstand- 
ing the  innovating  spirit  of  the  time,  Sir  Maximus 
Debarry's  establishment  was  kept  up  in  a  sound, 
hereditary  British  manner. 


VOL.  I.-— 10 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Rumour  doth  double  like  the  voice  and  echo. 

Shakespearb. 

The  mind  of  a  man  is  as  a  country  which  was  once  open  to 
squatters,  who  have  bred  and  multiplied  and  become  masters  of 
the  land.  But  then  happeneth  a  time  when  new  and  hungry  comers 
dispute  the  land ;  and  there  is  trial  of  strength,  and  the  stronger 
wins.  Nevertheless  the  first  squatters  be  they  who  have  prepared 
the  ground,  and  the  crops  to  the  end  will  be  sequent  (though  chiefly 
on  the  nature  of  the  soil,  as  of  light  sand,  mixed  loam,  or  heavy 
clay,  yet)  somewhat  on  the  primal  labour  and  sowing. 

That  talkative  maiden,  Rumour,  though  in  the  in- 
terest of  art  she  is  figured  as  a  youthful  winged 
beauty  with  flowing  garments,  soaring  above  the 
heads  of  men,  and  breathing  world-thrilling  news 
through  a  gracefully  curved  trumpet,  is  in  fact  a 
very  old  maid,  who  puckers  her  silly  face  by  the 
fireside,  and  really  does  no  more  than  chirp  a  wrong 
guess  or  a  lame  story  into  the  ear  of  a  fellow-gossip ; 
all  the  rest  of  the  work  attributed  to  her  is  done  by 
the  ordinary  working  of  those  passions  against  which 
men  pray  in  the  Litany,  with  the  help  of  a  plentiful 
stupidity  against  which  we  have  never  yet  had  any 
authorized  form  of  prayer. 

When  Mr.  Scales's  strong  need  to  make  an  im- 
pressive figure  in  conversation,  together  with  his 
very  slight  need  of  any  other  premise  than  his  own 
sense  of  his  wide  general  knowledge  and  probable 
infallibility,  led  him  to  specify  five  hundred  thou- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  147 

sand  as  the  lowest  admissible  amount  of  Harold 
Tran some's  commercially  acquired  fortune,  it  was 
not  fair  to  put  this  down  to  poor  old  Miss  Eumour, 
who  had  only  told  Scales  that  the  fortune  was  con- 
siderable. And  again,  when  the  curt  Mr.  Sircome 
found  occasion  at  Treby  to  mention  the  five  hundred 
thousand  as  a  fact  that  folks  seemed  pretty  sure 
about,  this  expansion  of  the  butler  into  "  folks  "  was 
entirely  due  to  Mr.  Sircome's  habitual  preference 
for  words  which  could  not  be  laid  hold  of  or  give 
people  a  handle  over  him.  It  was  in  this  simple 
way  that  the  report  of  Harold  Transome's  fortune 
spread  and  was  magnified,  adding  much  lustre  to 
his  opinions  in  the  eyes  of  Liberals,  and  compelling 
even  men  of  the  opposite  party  to  admit  that  it 
increased  his  eligibility  as  a  member  for  North 
Loamshire.  It  was  observed  by  a  sound  thinker  in 
these  parts  that  property  was  ballast ;  and  when 
once  the  aptness  of  that  metaphor  had  been  per- 
ceived, it  followed  that  a  man  was  not  fit  to  navigate 
the  sea  of  politics  without  a  great  deal  of  such 
ballast ;  and  that,  rightly  understood,  whatever  in- 
creased the  expense  of  election,  inasmuch  as  it 
virtually  raised  the  property  qualification,  was  an 
unspeakable  boon  to  the  country. 

Meanwhile  the  fortune  that  was  getting  larger  in 
the  imagination  of  constituents  was  shrinking  a 
little  in  the  imagination  of  its  owner.  It  was  hardly 
more  than  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand ;  and  there 
were  not  only  the  heavy  mortgages  to  be  paid  off, 
but  also  a  large  amount  of  capital  was  needed  in 
order  to  repair  the  farm-buildings  all  over  the  es- 
tate, to  carry  out  extensive  draining,  and  make 
allowances  to  incoming  tenants,  which  might  re- 
move the  difficulty  of  newly  letting  the  farms  in 


148  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

a  time  of  agricultural  depression.  The  farms  actu- 
ally tenanted  were  held  by  men  who  had  begged 
hard  to  succeed  their  fathers  in  getting  a  little 
poorer  every  year,  on  land  which  was  also  getting 
poorer,  where  the  highest  rate  of  increase  was  in 
the  arrears  of  rent,  and  where  the  master,  in  crushed 
hat  and  corduroys,  looked  pitiably  lean  and  care- 
worn by  the  side  of  pauper  labourers,  who  showed 
that  superior  assimilating  power  often  observed  to 
attend  nourishment  by  the  public  money.  Mr. 
Goffe,  of  Rabbit's  End,  had  never  had  it  explained 
to  him  that,  according  to  the  true  theory  of  rent, 
land  must  inevitably  be  given  up  when  it  would 
not  yield  a  profit  equal  to  the  ordinary  rate  of  in- 
terest ;  so  that  from  want  of  knowing  what  was 
inevitable,  and  not  from  a  Titanic  spirit  of  opposi- 
tion, he  kept  on  his  land.  He  often  said  of  himself, 
with  a  melancholy  wipe  of  his  sleeve  across  his 
brow,  that  he  "  did  n't  know  which-a-way  to  turn  ; " 
and  he  would  have  been  still  more  at  a  loss  on  the 
subject  if  he  had  quitted  Rabbit's  End  with  a  wagon- 
ful  of  furniture  and  utensils,  a  file  of  receipts,  a 
wife  with  five  children,  and  a  shepherd  dog  in  low 
spirits. 

It  took  no  long  time  for  Harold  Transome  to 
discover  this  state  of  things,  and  to  see,  moreover, 
that,  except  on  the  demesne  immediately  around 
the  house,  the  timber  had  been  mismanaged.  The 
woods  had  been  recklessly  thinned,  and  there  had 
been  insufficient  planting.  He  had  not  yet  thor- 
oughly investigated  the  various  accounts  kept  by 
his  mother,  by  Jermyn,  and  by  Banks  the  bailiff ; 
but  what  had  been  done  with  the  large  sums  which 
had  been  received  for  timber  was  a  suspicious 
mystery  to  him.     He  observed  that  the  farm  held 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  149 

by  Jermyn  was  in  first-rate  order,  that  a  good  deal 
had  been  spent  on  the  buildings,  and  that  the  rent 
had  stood  unpaid.  Mrs.  Transome  had  taken  an 
opportunity  of  saying  that  Jermyn  had  had  some  of 
the  mortgage-deeds  transferred  to  him,  and  that  his 
rent  was  set  against  so  much  interest.  Harold  had 
only  said,  in  his  careless  yet  decisive  way :  "  Oh, 
Jermyn  be  hanged !  It  seems  to  me  if  Durfey 
had  n't  died  and  made  room  for  me,  Jermyn  would 
have  ended  by  coming  to  live  here,  and  you  would 
have  had  to  keep  the  lodge  and  open  the  gate  for 
his  carriage.  But  I  shall  pay  him  off  —  mortgages 
and  all  —  by  and  by.  I  '11  owe  him  nothing,  —  not 
even  a  curse."  Mrs.  Transome  said  no  more.  Harold 
did  not  care  to  enter  fully  into  the  subject  with  his 
mother.  The  fact  that  she  had  been  active  in  the 
management  of  the  estate  —  had  ridden  about  it 
continually,  had  busied  herself  with  accounts,  had 
been  head-bailiff  of  the  vacant  farms,  and  had  yet 
allowed  things  to  go  wrong  —  was  set  down  by  him 
simply  to  the  general  futility  of  women's  attempts 
to  transact  men's  business.  He  did  not  want  to  say 
anything  to  annoy  her ;  he  was  only  determined  to 
let  her  understand,  as  quietly  as  possible,  that  she 
had  better  cease  all  interference. 

Mrs.  Transome  did  understand  this ;  and  it  was 
very  little  that  she  dared  to  say  on  business,  though 
there  was  a  fierce  struggle  of  her  anger  and  pride 
with  a  dread  which  was  nevertheless  supreme.  As 
to  the  old  tenants,  she  only  observed,  on  hearing 
Harold  burst  forth  about  their  wretched  condition, 
"  that  with  the  estate  so  burthened,  the  yearly  loss 
by  arrears  could  better  be  borne  than  the  outlay  and 
sacrifice  necessary  in  order  to  let  the  farms  anew." 

"  I  was  really  capable  of  calculating,  Harold,"  she 


i5o  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

ended,  with  a  touch  of  bitterness.  "  It  seems  easy 
to  deal  with  farmers  and  their  affairs  when  you 
only  see  them  in  print,  I  dare  say ;  but  it 's  not 
quite  so  easy  when  you  live  among  them.  You 
have  only  to  look  at  Sir  Maximus's  estate  ;  you  will 
see  plenty  of  the  same  thing.  The  times  have  been 
dreadful,  and  old  families  like  to  keep  their  old 
tenants.     But  I  dare  say  that  is  Toryism." 

"  It 's  a  hash  of  odds  and  ends,  if  that  is  Toryism, 
my  dear  mother.  However,  I  wish  you  had  kept 
three  more  old  tenants  ;  for  then  I  should  have  had 
three  more  fifty-pound  voters.  And,  in  a  hard  run, 
one  may  be  beaten  by  a  head.  But,"  Harold  added, 
smiling,  and  handing  her  a  ball  of  worsted  which 
had  fallen,  "  a  woman  ought  to  be  a  Tory,  and 
graceful  and  handsome  like  you.  I  should  hate  a 
woman  who  took  up  my  opinions  and  talked  for 
me.  I  'm  an  Oriental,  you  know.  I  say,  mother, 
shall  we  have  this  room  furnished  with  rose-colour  ? 
I  notice  that  it  suits  your  bright  gray  hair." 

Harold  thought  it  was  only  natural  that  his 
mother  should  have  been  in  a  sort  of  subjection  to 
Jermyn  throughout  the  awkward  circumstances  of 
the  family.  It  was  the  way  of  women,  and  all  weak 
minds,  to  think  that  what  they  had  been  used  to 
was  inalterable,  and  any  quarrel  with  a  man  who 
managed  private  affairs  was  necessarily  a  formidable 
thing.  He  himself  was  proceeding  very  cautiously, 
and  preferred  not  even  to  know  too  much  just  at 
present,  lest  a  certain  personal  antipathy  he  was  con- 
scious of  towards  Jermyn,  and  an  occasional  liability 
to  exasperation  should  get  the  better  of  a  calm  and 
clear-sighted  resolve  not  to  quarrel  with  the  man 
while  he  could  be  of  use.  Harold  would  have  been 
disgusted  with  himself  if  he  had  helped  to  frustrate 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  151 

his  own  purpose.  And  his  strongest  purpose  now 
was  to  get  returned  for  Parliament,  to  make  a  figure 
there  as  a  Liberal  member,  and  to  become  on  all 
grounds  a  personage  of  weight  in  North  Loamshire. 
How  Harold  Transome  came  to  be  a  Liberal  in 
opposition  to  all  the  traditions  of  his  family,  was  a 
more  subtle  inquiry  than  he  had  ever  cared  to  follow 
out.  The  newspapers  undertook  to  explain  it.  The 
"  North  Loamshire  Herald  "  witnessed,  with  a  grief 
and  disgust  certain  to  be  shared  by  all  persons  who 
were  actuated  by  wholesome  British  feeling,  an  ex- 
ample of  defection  in  the  inheritor  of  a  family  name 
which  in  times  past  had  been  associated  with  at- 
tachment to  right  principle,  and  with  the  mainte- 
nance of  our  Constitution  in  Church  and  State ;  and 
pointed  to  it  as  an  additional  proof  that  men  who 
had  passed  any  large  portion  of  their  lives  beyond 
the  limits  of  our  favoured  country  usually  con- 
tracted not  only  a  laxity  of  feeling  towards  Protes- 
tantism, nay,  towards  religion  itself,  —  a  latitudina- 
rian  spirit  hardly  distinguishable  from  atheism, — 
but  also  a  levity  of  disposition,  inducing  them  to 
tamper  with  those  institutions  by  which  alone  Great 
Britain  had  risen  to  her  pre-eminence  among  the  na- 
tions. Such  men,  infected  with  outlandish  habits, 
intoxicated  with  vanity,  grasping  at  momentary 
power  by  flattery  of  the  multitude,  fearless  because 
godless,  liberal  because  un-English,  were  ready  to 
pull  one  stone  from  under  another  in  the  national 
edifice,  till  the  great  structure  tottered  to  its  fall. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  "Duffield  Watchman"  saw, 
in  this  signal  instance  of  self-liberation  from  the 
trammels  of  prejudice,  a  decisive  guarantee  of  intel- 
lectual pre-eminence,  united  with  a  generous  sensi- 
bility  to   the   claims   of   man  as  man,  which  had 


1 52  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

burst  asunder  and  cast  off,  by  a  spontaneous  exer- 
tion of  energy,  the  cramping,  out-worn  shell  of 
hereditary  bias  and  class  interest. 

But  these  large-minded  guides  of  public  opinion 
argued  from  wider  data  than  could  be  furnished  by 
any  knowledge  of  the  particular  case  concerned. 
Harold  Transome  was  neither  the  dissolute  cosmo- 
politan so  vigorously  sketched  by  the  Tory  "  Herald," 
nor  the  intellectual  giant  and  moral  lobster  suggested 
by  the  liberal  imagination  of  the  "Watchman." 
Twenty  years  ago  he  had  been  a  bright,  active, 
good-tempered  lad,  with  sharp  eyes  and  a  good  aim ; 
he  delighted  in  success  and  in  predominance,  but 
he  did  not  long  for  an  impossible  predominance,  and 
become  sour  and  sulky  because  it  was  impossible. 
He  played  at  the  games  he  was  clever  in,  and  usu- 
ally won ;  all  other  games  he  let  alone,  and  thought 
them  of  little  worth.  At  home  and  at  Eton  he  had 
been  side  by  side  with  his  stupid  elder  brother  Dur- 
fey,  whom  he  despised ;  and  he  very  early  began  to 
reflect  that  since  this  Caliban  in  miniature  was  older 
than  himself,  he  must  carve  out  his  own  fortune. 
That  was  a  nuisance ;  and  on  the  whole  the  world 
seemed  rather  ill-arranged,  at  Eton  especially, 
where  there  were  many  reasons  why  Harold  made 
no  great  figure.  He  was  not  sorry  the  money  was 
wanting  to  send  him  to  Oxford ;  he  did  not  see  the 
good  of  Oxford :  he  had  been  surrounded  by  many 
things  during  his  short  life,  of  which  he  had  dis- 
tinctly said  to  himself  that  he  did  not  see  the  good, 
and  he  was  not  disposed  to  venerate  on  the  strength 
of  any  good  that  others  saw.  He  turned  his  back 
on  home  very  cheerfully,  though  he  was  rather  fond 
of  his  mother,  and  very  fond  of  Transome  Court,  and 
the  river  where  he  had  been  used  to  fish ;  but  he 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  153 

said  to  himself  as  he  passed  the  lodge-gates,  "  I  '11 
get  rich  somehow,  and  have  an  estate  of  my  own, 
and  do  what  I  like  with  it."  This  determined  aim- 
ing at  something  not  easy  but  clearly  possible 
marked  the  direction  in  which  Harold's  nature  was 
strong ;  he  had  the  energetic  will  and  muscle,  the 
self-confidence,  the  quick  perception,  and  the  nar- 
row imagination  which  make  what  is  admiringly 
called  the  practical  mind. 

Since  then  his  character  had  been  ripened  by  a 
various  experience,  and  also  by  much  knowledge 
which  he  had  set  himself  deliberately  to  gain.  But 
the  man  was  no  more  than  the  boy  writ  large,  with 
an  extensive  commentary.  The  years  had  nourished 
an  inclination  to  as  much  opposition  as  would  en- 
able him  to  assert  his  own  independence  and  power 
without  throwing  himself  into  that  tabooed  condi- 
tion which  robs  power  of  its  triumph.  And  this  in- 
clination had  helped  his  shrewdness  in  forming 
judgments  which  were  at  once  innovating  and  mod- 
erate. He  was  addicted  at  once  to  rebellion  and  to 
conformity,  and  only  an  intimate  personal  knowl- 
edge could  enable  any  one  to  predict  where  his 
conformity  would  begin.  The  limit  was  not  de- 
fined by  theory,  but  was  drawn  in  an  irregular  zig- 
zag by  early  disposition  and  association  ;  and  his 
resolution,  of  which  he  had  never  lost  hold,  to  be  a 
thorough  Englishman  again  some  day,  had  kept  up 
the  habit  of  considering  all  his  conclusions  with 
reference  to  English  politics  and  English  social  con- 
ditions. He  meant  to  stand  up  for  every  change 
that  the  economical  condition  of  the  country  re- 
quired, and  he  had  an  angry  contempt  for  men  with 
coronets  on  their  coaches,  but  too  small  a  share  of 
brains  to  see  when  they  had  better  make  a  virtue  of 


1 54  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

necessity.  His  respect  was  rather  for  men  who  had 
no  coronets,  but  who  achieved  a  just  influence  by 
furthering  all  measures  which  the  common-sense  of 
the  country  and  the  increasing  self-assertion  of  the 
majority  peremptorily  demanded.  He  could  be 
such  a  man  himself. 

In  fact,  Harold  Transome  was  a  clever,  frank, 
good-natured  egoist ;  not  stringently  consistent,  but 
without  any  disposition  to  falsity ;  proud,  but  with 
a  pride  that  was  moulded  in  an  individual  rather 
than  an  hereditary  form ;  unspeculative,  unsenti- 
mental, unsympathetic;  fond  of  sensual  pleasures, 
but  disinclined  to  all  vice,  and  attached  as  a  healthy, 
clear-sighted  person,  to  all  conventional  morality, 
construed  with  a  certain  freedom,  like  doctrinal 
articles  to  which  the  public  order  may  require  sub- 
scription. A  character  is  apt  to  look  but  indiffer- 
ently, written  out  in  this  way.  Keduced  to  a  map, 
our  premises  seem  insignificant,  but  they  make, 
nevertheless,  a  very  pretty  freehold  to  live  in  and 
walk  over ;  and  so,  if  Harold  Transome  had  been 
among  your  acquaintances,  and  you  had  observed 
his  qualities  through  the  medium  of  his  agreeable 
person,  bright  smile,  and  a  certain  easy  charm 
which  accompanies  sensuousness  when  unsullied 
by  coarseness,  —  through  the  medium  also  of  the 
many  opportunities  in  which  he  would  have  made 
himself  useful  or  pleasant  to  you,  —  you  would  have 
thought  him  a  good  fellow,  highly  acceptable  as  a 
guest,  a  colleague,  or  a  brother-in-law.  "Whether 
all  mothers  would  have  liked  him  as  a  son,  is 
another  question. 

It  is  a  fact,  perhaps  kept  a  little  too  much  in  the 
background,  that  mothers  have  a  self  larger  than 
their  maternity,  and  that  when  their  sons  have  be- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  KADICAL.  155 

come  taller  than  themselves,  and  are  gone  from 
them  to  college  or  into  the  world,  there  are  wide 
spaces  of  their  time  which  are  not  filled  with  pray- 
ing for  their  boys,  reading  old  letters,  and  envying 
yet  blessing  those  who  are  attending  to  their  shirt- 
buttons.  Mrs.  Transome  was  certainly  not  one  of 
those  bland,  adoring,  and  gently  tearful  women. 
After  sharing  the  common  dream  that  when  a  beau- 
tiful man-child  was  born  to  her,  her  cup  of  happi- 
ness would  be  full,  she  had  travelled  through  long 
years  apart  from  that  child  to  find  herself  at  last 
in  the  presence  of  a  son  of  whom  she  was  afraid, 
who  was  utterly  unmanageable  by  her,  and  to 
whose  sentiments  in  any  given  case  she  possessed 
no  key.  Yet  Harold  was  a  kind  son:  he  kissed 
his  mother's  brow,  offered  her  his  arm,  let  her 
choose  what  she  liked  for  the  house  and  garden, 
asked  her  whether  she  would  have  bays  or  grays 
for  her  new  carriage,  and  was  bent  on  seeing  her 
make  as  good  a  figure  in  the  neighbourhood  as  any 
other  woman  of  her  rank.  She  trembled  under  this 
kindness :  it  was  not  enough  to  satisfy  her ;  still, 
if  it  should  ever  cease  and  give  place  to  something 
else,  —  she  was  too  uncertain  about  Harold's  feel- 
ings to  imagine  clearly  what  that  something  would 
be.  The  finest  threads,  such  as  no  eye  sees,  if 
bound  cunningly  about  the  sensitive  flesh,  so  that 
the  movement  to  break  them  would  bring  torture, 
may  make  a  worse  bondage  than  any  fetters.  Mrs. 
Transome  felt  the  fatal  threads  about  her,  and  the 
bitterness  of  this  helpless  bondage  mingled  itself 
with  the  new  elegances  of  the  dining  and  drawing 
rooms,  and  all  the  household  changes  which  Harold 
had  ordered  to  be  brought  about  with  magical 
quickness.     Nothing  was  as  she  had  once  expected 


156  EELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

it  would  be.  If  Harold  had  shown  the  least  care 
to  have  her  stay  in  the  room  with  him,  —  if  he  had 
really  cared  for  her  opinion,  —  if  he  had  been  what 
she  had  dreamed  he  would  be  in  the  eyes  of  those 
people  who  had  made  her  world,  —  if  all  the  past 
could  be  dissolved,  and  leave  no  solid  trace  of  itself, 
—  mighty  ifs  that  were  all  impossible,  —  she  would 
have  tasted  some  joy ;  but  now  she  began  to  look 
back  with  regret  to  the  days  when  she  sat  in  loneli- 
ness among  the  old  drapery,  and  still  longed  for 
something  that  might  happen.  Yet,  save  in  a  bitter 
little  speech,  or  in  a  deep  sigh  heard  by  no  one  be- 
sides Denner,  she  kept  all  these  things  hidden  in 
her  heart,  and  went  out  in  the  autumn  sunshine  to 
overlook  the  alterations  in  the  pleasure-grounds 
very  much  as  a  happy  woman  might  have  done. 
One  day,  however,  when  she  was  occupied  in  this 
way,  an  occasion  came  on  which  she  chose  to  ex- 
press indirectly  a  part  of  her  inward  care. 

She  was  standing  on  the  broad  gravel  in  the 
afternoon ;  the  long  shadows  lay  on  the  grass ;  the 
light  seemed  the  more  glorious  because  of  the  red- 
dened and  golden  trees.  The  gardeners  were  busy 
at  their  pleasant  work ;  the  newly  turned  soil  gave 
out  an  agreeable  fragrance;  and  little  Harry  was 
playing  with  Nimrod  round  old  Mr.  Transome,  who 
sat  placidly  on  a  low  garden-chair.  The  scene 
would  have  made  a  charming  picture  of  English 
domestic  life ;  and  the  handsome,  majestic,  gray- 
haired  woman  (obviously  grandmamma)  would 
have  been  especially  admired.  But  the  artist 
would  have  felt  it  requisite  to  turn  her  face  to- 
wards her  husband  and  little  grandson,  and  to  have 
given  her  an  elderly  amiability  of  expression  which 
would    have    divided   remark   with    his   exquisite 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  157 

rendering  of  her  Indian  shawl.  Mrs.  Tran  some's 
face  was  turned  the  other  way,  and  for  this  rea- 
son she  only  heard  an  approaching  step,  and  did 
not  see  whose  it  was ;  yet  it  startled  her.  It  was 
not  quick  enough  to  be  her  son's  step;  and  be- 
sides, Harold  was  away  at  Duffield.  It  was  Mr. 
Jermyn's. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

A  woman,  naturally  born  to  fears. 

King  John. 

Methinks 
Some  unborn  sorrow,  ripe  in  fortune's  womb, 
Is  coming  towards  me ;  and  my  inward  soul 
With  nothing  trembles. 

King  Richard  II. 

Matthew  Jermyn  approached  Mrs.  Transome,  tak- 
ing off  his  hat  and  smiling.  She  did  not  smile, 
but  said, — 

"  You  knew  Harold  was  not  at  home  ?  " 
"  Yes ;  I  came  to  see  you,  to  know  if  you  had  any 
wishes  that  I  could  further,  since  I  have  not  had  an 
opportunity  of  consulting  you  since  he  came  home." 
"  Let  us  walk  towards  the  Rookery  then." 
They  turned  together,  Mr.  Jermyn  still  keeping 
his  hat  off  and  holding  it  behind  him.     The  air  was 
so  soft  and  agreeable  that  Mrs.  Transome   herself 
had  nothing  but  a  large  veil  over  her  head. 

They  walked  for  a  little  while  in  silence,  till  they 
were  out  of  sight,  under  tall  trees,  and  treading 
noiselessly  on  falling  leaves.  What  Jermyn  was 
really  most  anxious  about  was  to  learn  from  Mrs. 
Transome  whether  anything  had  transpired  that 
was  significant  of  Harold's  disposition  towards  him, 
which  he  suspected  to  be  very  far  from  friendly. 
Jermyn  was    not  naturally  flinty -hearted :  at  five- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  159 

and-twenty  lie  had  written  verses,  and  had  got  him- 
self wet  through  in  order  not  to  disappoint  a  dark- 
eyed  woman  whom  he  was  proud  to  believe  in  love 
with  him ;  but  a  family  man  with  grown-up  sons 
and  daughters,  a  man  with  a  professional  position 
and  complicated  affairs  that  make  it  hard  to  ascer- 
tain the  exact  relation  between  property  and  liabili- 
ties, necessarily  thinks  of  himself  and  what  may  be 
impending. 

"Harold  is  remarkably  acute  and  clever,"  he 
began  at  last,  since  Mrs.  Transome  did  not  speak. 
"  If  he  gets  into  Parliament,  I  have  no  doubt  he 
will  distinguish  himself.  He  has  a  quick  eye  for 
business  of  all  kinds." 

"  That  is  no  comfort  to  me,"  said  Mrs.  Transome. 
To-day  she  was  more  conscious  than  usual  of  that 
bitterness  which  was  always  in  her  mind  in 
Jermyn's  presence,  but  which  was  carefully  sup- 
pressed, —  suppressed  because  she  could  not  endure 
that  the  degradation  she  inwardly  felt  should  ever 
become  visible  or  audible  in  acts  or  words  of  her 
own,  should  ever  be  reflected  in  any  word  or  look 
of  his.  For  years  there  had  been  a  deep  silence 
about  the  past  between  them,  —  on  her  side,  because 
she  remembered  ;  on  his,  because  he  more  and  more 
forgot. 

"  I  trust  he  is  not  unkind  to  you  in  any  way.  I 
know  his  opinions  pain  you ;  but  I  trust  you  find 
him  in  everything  else  disposed  to  be  a  good  son." 

"  Oh,  to  be  sure,  —  good  as  men  are  disposed  to 
be  to  women,  giving  them  cushions  and  carriages, 
and  recommending  them  to  enjoy  themselves,  and 
then  expecting  them  to  be  contented  under  con- 
tempt and  neglect.  I  have  no  power  over  him,  — 
remember  that,  —  none." 


160  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Jermyn  turned  to  look  in  Mrs.  Transome's  face : 
it  was  long  since  he  had  heard  her  speak  to  him  as 
if  she  were  losing  her  self-command. 

"Has  he  shown  any  unpleasant  feeling  about 
your  management  of  the  affairs  ? " 

"My  management  of  the  affairs  !"  Mrs.  Transome 
said,  with  concentrated  rage,  flashing  a  fierce  look 
at  Jermyn.  She  checked  herself ;  she  felt  as  if  she 
were  lighting  a  torch  to  flare  on  her  own  past  folly 
and  misery.  It  was  a  resolve  which  had  become  a 
habit,  that  she  would  never  quarrel  with  this  man, 
—  never  tell  him  what  she  saw  him  to  be.  She 
had  kept  her  woman's  pride  and  sensibility  intact : 
through  all  her  life  there  had  vibrated  the  maiden 
need  to  have  her  hand  kissed  and  be  the  object 
of  chivalry.  And  so  she  sank  into  silence  again, 
trembling. 

Jermyn  felt  annoyed, — nothing  more.  There 
was  nothing  in  his  mind  corresponding  to  the  intri- 
cate meshes  of  sensitiveness  in  Mrs.  Transome's. 
He  was  anything  but  stupid ;  yet  he  always  blun- 
dered when  he  wanted  to  be  delicate  or  magnani- 
mous ;  he  constantly  sought  to  soothe  others  by 
praising  himself.  Moral  vulgarity  cleaved  to  him 
like  an  hereditary  odour.     He  blundered  now. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Transome,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of 
bland  kindness,  "  you  are  agitated,  —  you  appear 
angry  with  me.  Yet  I  think,  if  you  consider,  you 
will  see  that  you  have  nothing  to  complain  of  in 
me,  unless  you  will  complain  of  the  inevitable 
course  of  man's  life.  I  have  always  met  your  wishes 
both  in  happy  circumstances  and  in  unhappy  ones. 
I  should  be  ready  to  do  so  now,  if  it  were  possible." 

Every  sentence  was  as  pleasant  to  her  as  if  it 
had  been  cut  in  her  bared  arm.     Some  men's  kind- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  1G1 

ness  and  love-making  are  more  exasperating,  more 
humiliating  than  others'  derision  ;  but  the  pitiable 
woman  who  has  once  made  herself  secretly  depen- 
dent on  a  man  who  is  beneath  her  in  feeling,  must 
bear  that  humiliation  for  fear  of  worse.  Coarse 
kindness  is  at  least  better  than  coarse  anger ;  and 
in  all  private  quarrels  the  duller  nature  is  trium- 
phant by  reason  of  its  duluess.  Mrs.  Transome 
knew  in  her  inmost  soul  that  those  relations  which 
had  sealed  her  lips  on  Jermyn's  conduct  in  business 
matters,  had  been  with  him  a  ground  for  presuming 
that  he  should  have  impunity  in  any  lax  dealing 
into  which  circumstances  had  led  him.  She  knew 
that  she  herself  had  endured  all  the  more  privation 
because  of  his  dishonest  selfishness.  And  now, 
Harold's  long-deferred  heirship,  and  his  return  with 
startlingly  unexpected  penetration,  activity,  and 
assertion  of  mastery,  had  placed  them  both  in  the 
full  presence  of  a  difficulty  which  had  been  prepared 
by  the  years  of  vague  uncertainty  as  to  issues.  In 
this  position,  with  a  great  dread  hanging  over  her, 
which  Jermyn  knew,  and  ought  to  have  felt  that 
he  had  caused  her,  she  was  inclined  to  lash  him 
with  indignation,  to  scorch  him  with  the  words 
that  were  just  the  fit  names  for  his  doings,  —  in- 
clined all  the  more  when  he  spoke  with  an  insolent 
blandness,  ignoring  all  that  was  truly  in  her  heart. 
But  no  sooner  did  the  words  "  You  have  brought  it 
on  me  "  rise  within  her  than  she  heard  within  also 
the  retort,  "  You  brought  it  on  yourself."  Not  for 
all  the  world  beside  could  she  bear  to  hear  that 
retort  uttered  from  without.  What  did  she  do? 
With  strange  sequence  to  all  that  rapid  tumult, 
after  a  few  moments'  silence  she  said,  in  a  gentle 
and  almost  tremulous  voice, — 

VOL.  I.  —  11  > 


162  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Let  me  take  your  arm." 

He  gave  it  immediately,  putting  on  his  hat  and 
wondering.  For  more  than  twenty  years  Mrs. 
Transome  had  never  chosen  to  take  his  arm. 

"  I  have  but  one  thing  to  ask  you.  Make  me  a 
promise." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  That  you  will  never  quarrel  with  Harold." 

"  You  must  know  that  it  is  my  wish  not  to  quar- 
rel with  him." 

"  But  make  a  vow,  —  fix  it  in  your  mind  as  a 
thing  not  to  be  done.  Bear  anything  from  him 
rather  than  quarrel  with  him." 

"  A  man  can't  make  a  vow  not  to  quarrel,"  said 
Jermyn,  who  was  already  a  little  irritated  by  the 
implication  that  Harold  might  be  disposed  to  use 
him  roughly.  "  A  man's  temper  may  get  the  better 
of  him  at  any  moment.  I  am  not  prepared  to  bear 
anything." 

"  Good  God  ! "  said  Mrs.  Transome,  taking  her 
hand  from  his  arm,  "  is  it  possible  you  don't  feel 
how  horrible  it  would  be  ?  " 

As  she  took  away  her  hand,  Jermyn  let  his  arm 
fall,  put  both  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders,  said,  "  I  shall  use  him  as  he 
uses  me." 

Jermyn  had  turned  round  his  savage  side,  and 
the  blandness  was  out  of  sight.  It  was  this  that 
had  always  frightened  Mrs.  Transome ;  there  was 
a  possibility  of  fierce  insolence  in  this  man  who 
was  to  pass  with  those  nearest  to  her  as  her  in- 
debted servant,  but  whose  brand  she  secretly  bore. 
She  was  as  powerless  with  him  as  she  was  with 
her  son. 

This  woman,  who  loved  rule,  dared   not  speak 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  163 

another  word  of  attempted  persuasion.  They  were 
both  silent,  taking  the  nearest  way  into  the  sun- 
shine again.  There  was  a  half-formed  wish  in  both 
their  minds,  —  even  in  the  mother's,  —  that  Harold 
Transome  had  never  been  born. 

"We  are  working  hard  for  the  election,"  said 
Jermyn,  recovering  himself,  as  they  turned  into 
the  sunshine  again.  "  I  think  we  shall  get  him 
returned,  and  in  that  case  he  will  be  in  high  good- 
humour.  Everything  will  be  more  propitious  than 
you  are  apt  to  think.  You  must  persuade  your- 
self," he  added,  smiling  at  her,  "  that  it  is  better  for 
a  man  of  his  position  to  be  in  Parliament  on  the 
wrong  side  than  not  to  be  in  at  all." 

"  Never,"  said  Mrs.  Transome.  "  I  am  too  old 
to  learn  to  call  bitter  sweet  and  sweet  bitter.  But 
what  I  may  think  or  feel  is  of  no  consequence  now. 
I  am  as  unnecessary  as  a  chimney  ornament." 

And  in  this  way  they  parted  on  the  gravel,  in 
that  pretty  scene  where  they  had  met.  Mrs.  Tran- 
some shivered  %  as  she  stood  alone ;  all  around  her, 
where  there  had  once  been  brightness  and  warmth, 
there  were  white  ashes,  and  the  sunshine  looked 
dreary  as  it  fell  on  them. 

Mr.  Jermyn's  heaviest  reflections  in  riding  home- 
ward turned  on  the  possibility  of  incidents  between 
himself  and  Harold  Transome  which  would  have 
disagreeable  results,  requiring  him  to  raise  money, 
and  perhaps  causing  scandal,  which  in  its  way 
might  also  help  to  create  a  monetary  deficit.  A 
man  of  sixty,  with  a  wife  whose  Duffield  connec- 
tions were  of  the  highest  respectability,  with  a 
family  of  tall  daughters,  an  expensive  establish- 
ment, and  a  large  professional  business,  owed  a 
great  deal  more  to  himself  as  the  mainstay  of  all 


164  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

those  solidities,  than  to  feelings  and  ideas  which 
were  quite  unsubstantial.  There  were  many  un- 
fortunate coincidences  which  placed  Mr.  Jerinyn 
in  an  uncomfortable  position  just  now ;  he  had  not 
been  much  to  blame,  he  considered ;  if  it  had  not 
been  for  a  sudden  turn  of  affairs,  no  one  would  have 
complained.  He  defied  any  man  to  say  that  he  had 
intended  to  wrong  people ;  he  was  able  to  refund,  to 
make  reprisals,  if  they  could  be  fairly  demanded. 
Only  he  would  certainly  have  preferred  that  they 
should  not  be  demanded. 

A  German  poet  was  intrusted  with  a  particularly 
fine  sausage,  which  he  was  to  convey  to  the  donor's 
friend  at  Paris.  In  the  course  of  a  long  journey  he 
smelt  the  sausage  ;  he  got  hungry,  and  desired  to 
taste  it;  he  pared  a  morsel  off,  then  another,  and 
another,  in  successive  moments  of  temptation,  till 
at  last  the  sausage  was,  humanly  speaking,  at  an  end. 
The  offence  had  not  been  premeditated.  The  poet 
had  never  loved  meanness,  but  he  loved  sausage ; 
and  the  result  was  undeniably  awkward. 

So  it  was  with  Matthew  Jermyn.  He  was  far 
from  liking  that  ugly  abstraction  rascality,  but  he 
had  liked  other  things  which  had  suggested  nib- 
bling. He  had  had  to  do  many  things  in  law 
and  in  daily  life  which  in  the  abstract  he  would 
have  condemned ;  and  indeed  he  had  never  been 
tempted  by  them  in  the  abstract.  Here,  in  fact, 
was  the  inconvenience  ;  he  had  sinned  for  the  sake 
of  particular  concrete  things,  and  particular  con- 
crete consequences  were  likely  to  follow. 

But  he  was  a  man  of  resolution,  who,  having 
made  out  what  was  the  best  course  to  take  under 
a  difficulty,  went  straight  to  his  work.  The  elec- 
tion must  be  won  :  that  would  put  Harold  in  good- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  165 

humour,  give  him  something  to  do,  and  leave  him- 
self more  time  to  prepare  for  any  crisis. 

He  was  in  anything  but  low  spirits  that  evening. 
It  was  his  eldest  daughter's  birthday,  and  the  young 
people  had  a  dance.  Papa  was  delightful,  —  stood 
up  for  a  quadrille  and  a  country-dance,  told  stories 
at  supper,  and  made  humorous  quotations  from 
his  early  readings :  if  these  were  Latin,  he  apolo- 
gized, and  translated  to  the  ladies  ;  so  that  a  deaf 
lady-visitor  from  Duffield  kept  her  trumpet  up  con- 
tinually, lest  she  should  lose  any  of  Mr.  Jermyn's 
conversation,  and  wished  that  her  niece  Maria  had 
been  present,  who  was  young  and  had  a  good 
memory. 

Still  the  party  was  smaller  than  usual ;  for  some 
families  in  Treby  refused  to  visit  Jermyn,  now  that 
he  was  concerned  for  a  Kadical  candidate. 


CHAPTER  X. 

He  made  love  neither  with  roses,  nor  with  applet,  nor  with 
locks  of  hair. — Theocritus. 

One  Sunday  afternoon  Felix  Holt  rapped  at  the 
door  of  Mr.  Lyon's  house,  although  he  could  hear 
the  voice  of  the  minister  preaching  in  the  chapel. 
He  stood  with  a  book  under  his  arm,  apparently 
confident  that  there  was  some  one  in  the  house  to 
open  the  door  for  him.  In  fact,  Esther  never  went 
to  chapel  in  the  afternoon ;  that  "  exercise "  made 
her  head  ache. 

In  these  September  weeks  Felix  had  got  rather 
intimate  with  Mr.  Lyon.  They  shared  the  same 
political  sympathies ;  and  though,  to  Liberals  who 
had  neither  freehold  nor  copyhold  nor  leasehold 
the  share  in  a  county  election  consisted  chiefly  of 
that  prescriptive  amusement  of  the  majority  known 
as  "  looking  on,"  there  was  still  something  to  be 
said  on  the  occasion,  if  not  to  be  done.  Perhaps 
the  most  delightful  friendships  are  those  in  which 
there  is  much  agreement,  much  disputation,  and 
yet  more  personal  liking;  and  the  advent  of  the 
public-spirited,  contradictory,  yet  affectionate  Felix 
into  Treby  life  had  made  a  welcome  epoch  to  the 
minister.  To  talk  with  this  young  man,  who, 
though  hopeful,  had  a  singularity  which  some 
might  at  once  have  pronounced  heresy,  but  which 
Mr.  Lyon  persisted  in  regarding  as  orthodoxy  "  in 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  167 

the  making,"  was  like  a  good  bite  to  strong  teeth 
after  a  too  plentiful  allowance  of  spoon  meat.  To 
cultivate  his  society  with  a  view  to  checking  his 
erratic  tendencies  was  a  laudable  purpose  ;  but  per- 
haps if  Felix  had  been  rapidly  subdued  and  re- 
duced to  conformity,  little  Mr.  Lyon  would  have 
found  the  conversation  much  natter. 

Esther  had  not  seen  so  much  of  their  new  ac- 
quaintance as  her  father  had.  But  she  had  begun 
to  find  him  amusing,  and  also  rather  irritating  to 
her  woman's  love  of  conquest.  He  always  opposed 
and  criticised  her ;  and  besides  that,  he  looked  at 
her  as  if  he  never  saw  a  single  detail  about  her 
person,  —  quite  as  if  she  were  a  middle-aged  woman 
in  a  cap.  She  did  not  believe  that  he  had  ever  ad- 
mired her  hands,  or  her  long  neck,  or  her  graceful 
movements,  which  had  made  all  the  girls  at  school 
call  her  Calypso  (doubtless  from  their  familiarity 
with  "  Te'le'maque  ").  Felix  ought  properly  to  have 
been  a  little  in  love  with  her,  —  never  mentioning 
it,  of  course,  because  that  would  have  been  disagree- 
able, and  his  being  a  regular  lover  was  out  of  the 
question.  But  it  was  quite  clear  that  instead  of 
feeling  any  disadvantage  on  his  own  side,  he  held 
himself  to  be  immeasurably  her  superior;  and, 
what  was  worse,  Esther  had  a  secret  consciousness 
that  he  was  her  superior.  She  was  all  the  more 
vexed  at  the  suspicion  that  he  thought  slightly  of 
her;  and  wished  in  her  vexation  that  she  could 
have  found  more  fault  with  him,  —  that  she  had 
not  been  obliged  to  admire  more  and  more  the  vary- 
ing expressions  of  his  open  face  and  his  deliciously 
good-humoured  laugh,  always  loud  at  a  joke  against 
himself.  Besides,  she  could  not  help  having  hei 
curiosity  roused  by  the  unusual  combinations  both 


1 68  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

in  his  mind  and  in  his  outward  position ;  and  she 
had  surprised  herself  as  well  as  her  father  one  day 
by  suddenly  starting  up  and  proposing  to  walk  with 
him  when  he  was  going  to  pay  an  afternoon  visit 
to  Mrs.  Holt,  to  try  and  soothe  her  concerning 
.Felix.  "  What  a  mother  he  has  ! "  she  said  to  her- 
self when  they  came  away  again ;  "  but,  rude  and 
queer  as  he  is,  I  cannot  say  there  is  anything  vul- 
gar about  him.  Yet  —  I  don't  know  —  if  I  saw 
him  by  the  side  of  a  finished  gentleman."  Esther 
wished  that  finished  gentleman  were  among  her  ac- 
quaintances :  he  would  certainly  admire  her,  and 
make  her  aware  of  Felix's  inferiority. 

On  this  particular  Sunday  afternoon,  when  she 
heard  the  knock  at  the  door,  she  was  seated  in  the 
kitchen  corner  between  the  fire  and  the  window 
reading  "  Edne\"  Certainly  in  her  well-fitting  light- 
blue  dress,  —  she  almost  always  wore  some  shade  of 
blue,  —  with  her  delicate  sandalled  slipper  stretched 
towards  the  fire,  her  little  gold  watch,  which  had 
cost  her  nearly  a  quarter's  earnings,  visible  at  her 
side,  her  slender  fingers  playing  with  a  shower  of 
brown  curls,  and  a  coronet  of  shining  plaits  at  the 
summit  of  her  head,  she  was  a  remarkable  Cinder- 
ella. When  the  rap  came,  she  coloured,  and  was 
going  to  shut  her  book  and  put  it  out  of  the  way 
on  the  window-ledge  behind  her ;  but  she  desisted 
with  a  little  toss,  laid  it  open  on  the  table  beside 
her,  and  walked  to  the  outer  door,  which  opened 
into  the  kitchen.  There  was  rather  a  mischievous 
gleam  in  her  face  :  the  rap  was  not  a  small  one ;  it 
came  probably  from  a  large  personage  with  a  vigor- 
ous arm. 

"  Good-afternoon,  Miss  Lyon,"  said  Felix,  taking 
off  his  cloth  cap,  —  he  resolutely  declined  the  expen- 


FELIX    HOLT    AND    ESTHER    LYON    IN    THE    KITCHEN 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  KADICAL.  169 

sive  ugliness  of  a  hat,  and  in  a  poked  cap  and  with- 
out a  cravat,  made  a  figure  at  which  his  mother 
cried  every  Sunday,  and  thought  of  with  a  slow 
shake  of  the  head  at  several  passages  in  the  minis- 
ter's prayer. 

"  Dear  me,  it  is  you,  Mr.  Holt !  I  fear  you  will 
have  to  wait  some  time  before  you  can  see  my  father. 
The  sermon  is  not  ended  yet,  and  there  will  be  the 
hymn  and  the  prayer,  and  perhaps  other  things  to 
detain  him." 

"  Well,  will  you  let  me  sit  down  in  the  kitchen  ? 
I  don't  want  to  be  a  bore." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Esther,  with  her  pretty,  light  laugh, 
"  I  always  give  you  credit  for  not  meaning  it.  Pray 
come  in,  if  you  don't  mind  waiting.  I  was  sitting 
in  the  kitchen ;  the  kettle  is  singing  quite  prettily. 
It  is  much  nicer  than  the  parlour,  —  not  half  so 
ugly." 

"  There  I  agree  with  you." 

"  How  very  extraordinary !  But  if  you  prefer 
the  kitchen,  and  don't  want  to  sit  with  me,  I  can 
go  into  the  parlour." 

"  I  came  on  purpose  to  sit  with  you,"  said  Felix, 
in  his  blunt  way,  "  but  I  thought  it  likely  you  might 
be  vexed  at  seeing  me.  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you, 
but  I  've  got  nothing  pleasant  to  say.  As  your 
father  would  have  it,  I'm  not  given  to  prophesy 
smooth  things,  —  to  prophesy  deceit." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Esther,  sitting  down.  "  Pray 
be  seated.  You  thought  I  had  no  afternoon  sermon, 
so  you  came  to  give  me  one." 

"Yes,"  said  Felix,  seating  himself  sideways  in  a 
chair  not  far  off  her,  and  leaning  over  the  back  to 
look  at  her  with  his  large  clear  gray  eyes,  "  and  my 
text  is  something  you  said  the  other  day.     You  said 


170  FELIX  HOLT,  THE   RADICAL. 

you  did  n't  mind  about  people  having  right  opinions 
so  that  they  had  good  taste.  Now  I  want  you  to 
see  what  shallow  stuff  that  is." 

"Oh,  I  don't  doubt  it  if  you  say  so.  I  know  you 
are  a  person  of  right  opinions." 

"  But  by  opinions  you  mean  men's  thoughts  about 
great  subjects,  and  by  taste  you  mean  their  thoughts 
about  small  ones,  —  dress,  behaviour,  amusements, 
ornaments." 

"  Well  —  yes  —  or  rather,  their  sensibilities  about 
those  things." 

"  It  comes  to  the  same  thing ;  thoughts,  opinions, 
knowledge,  are  only  a  sensibility  to  facts  and  ideas. 
If  I  understand  a  geometrical  problem,  it  is  because 
I  have  a  sensibility  to  the  way  in  which  lines  and 
figures  are  related  to  each  other ;  and  I  want  you  to 
see  that  the  creature  who  has  the  sensibilities  that 
you  call  taste,  and  not  the  sensibilities  that  you  call 
opinions,  is  simply  a  lower,  pettier  sort  of  being,  — 
an  insect  that  notices  the  shaking  of  the  table,  but 
never  notices  the  thunder." 

"  Very  well,  I  am  an  insect ;  yet  I  notice  that  you 
are  thundering  at  me." 

"  No,  you  are  not  an  insect.  That  is  what  exas- 
perates me  at  your  making  a  boast  of  littleness. 
You  have  enough  understanding  to  make  it  wicked 
that  you  should  add  one  more  to  the  women  who 
hinder  men's  lives  from  having  any  nobleness  in 
them." 

Esther  coloured  deeply :  she  resented  this  speech, 
yet  she  disliked  it  less  than  many  Felix  had  ad- 
dressed to  her. 

"What  is  my  horrible  guilt?"  she  said,  rising 
and  standing,  as  she  was  wont,  with  one  foot  on  the 
fender,  and  looking  at  the  fire.     If  it  had  been  any 


„  EELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  171 

one  but  Felix  who  was  near  her,  it  might  have 
occurred  to  her  that  this  attitude  showed  her  to 
advantage ;  but  she  had  only  a  mortified  sense  that 
he  was  quite  indifferent  to  what  others  praised 
her  for. 

"  Why  do  you  read  this  mawkish  stuff  on  a  Sun- 
day, for  example? "he  said,  snatching  up"K£ne7' 
and  running  his  eye  over  the  pages. 

"  Why  don't  you  always  go  to  chapel,  Mr.  Holt, 
and  read  Howe's  'Living  Temple,'  and  join  the 
Church  ? " 

"  There 's  just  the  difference  between  us,  —  I  know 
why  I  don't  do  those  things.  I  distinctly  see  that 
I  can  do  something  better.  I  have  other  principles, 
and  should  sink  myself  by  doing  what  I  don't  rec- 
ognize as  the  best." 

"  I  understand,"  said  Esther,  as  lightly  as  she 
could,  to  conceal  her  bitterness.  "  I  am  a  lower 
kind  of  being,  and  could  not  so  easily  sink  myself." 

"  Not  by  entering  into  your  father's  ideas.  If  a 
woman  really  believes  herself  to  be  a  lower  kind  of 
being,  she  should  place  herself  in  subjection ;  she 
should  be  ruled  by  the  thoughts  of  her  father  or 
husband.  If  not,  let  her  show  her  power  of  choos- 
ing something  better.  You  must  know  that  your 
father's  principles  are  greater  and  worthier  than 
what  guides  your  life.  You  have  no  reason  but 
idle  fancy  and  selfish  inclination  for  shirking  his 
teaching  and  giving  your  soul  up  to  trifles." 

"  You  are  kind  enough  to  say  so.  But  I  am  not 
aware  that  I  have  ever  confided  my  reasons  to  you." 

"  Why,  what  worth  calling  a  reason  could  make 
any  mortal  hang  over  this  trash  ?  —  idiotic  immo- 
rality dressed  up  to  look  fine,  with  a  little  bit  of 
doctrine  tacked  to  it,  like  a  hare's  foot  on  a  dish, 


172  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

to  make  believe  the  mess  is  not  cat's  flesh.  Look 
here !  '  Est-ce  ma  faute,  si  je  trouve  partout  les 
bornes,  si  ce  qui  est  fini  n'a  pour  moi  aucune 
valeur  ? '  Yes,  sir,  distinctly  your  fault,  because 
you  're  an  ass.  Your  dunce  who  can't  do  his  sums 
always  has  a  taste  for  the  infinite.  Sir,  do  you 
know  what  a  rhomboid  is  ?  Oh,  no,  I  don't  value 
these  things  with  limits.  'Cependant,  j'aime  la 
monotonie  des  sentimens  de  la  vie,  et  si  j'avais 
encore  la  folie  de  croire  au  bonheur — '" 

"Oh,  pray,  Mr.  Holt,  don't  go  on  reading  with 
that  dreadful  accent ;  it  sets  one's  teeth  on  edge." 
Esther,  smarting  helplessly  under  the  previous  lashes, 
was  relieved  by  this  diversion  of  criticism. 

"  There  it  is  ! "  said  Felix,  throwing  the  book  on 
the  table,  and  getting  up  to  walk  about.  "  You  are 
only  happy  when  you  can  spy  a  tag  or  a  tassel  loose 
to  turn  the  talk,  and  get  rid  of  any  judgment  that 
must  carry  grave  action  after  it." 

"  I  think  I  have  borne  a  great  deal  of  talk  with- 
out turning  it." 

"  Not  enough,  Miss  Lyon,  —  not  all  that  I  came 
to  say.  I  want  you  to  change.  Of  course  I  am  a 
brute  to  say  so.  I  ought  to  say  you  are  perfect. 
Another  man  would,  perhaps.  But  I  say  I  want 
you  to  change." 

"  How  am  I  to  oblige  you  ?  By  joining  the 
Church  ? " 

"  No ;  but  by  asking  yourself  whether  life  is  not 
as  solemn  a  thing  as  your  father  takes  it  to  be,  —  \:\ 
which  you  may  be  either  a  blessing  or  a  curse  to 
many.  You  know  you  have  never  done  that.  You 
don't  care  to  be  better  than  a  bird  trimming  its 
feathers,  and  pecking  about  after  what  pleases  it. 
You  are  discontented  with  the  world  because  you 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  173 

can't  get  just  the  small  things  that  suit  your  pleas- 
ure, not  because  it 's  a  world  where  myriads  of  men 
and  women  are  ground  by  wrong  and  misery,  and 
tainted  with  pollution." 

Esther  felt  her  heart  swelling  with  mingled  indig- 
nation at  this  liberty,  wounded  pride  at  this  depre- 
ciation, and  acute  consciousness  that  she  could  not 
contradict  what  Felix  said.  He  was  outrageously 
ill-bred;  but  she  felt  that  she  should  be  lowering 
herself  by  telling  him  so,  and  manifesting  her  anger ; 
in  that  way  she  would  be  confirming  his  accusation 
of  a  littleness  that  shrank  from  severe  truth ;  and, 
besides,  through  all  her  mortification  there  pierced  a 
sense  that  this  exasperation  of  Felix  against  her 
was  more  complimentary  than  anything  in  his  pre- 
vious behaviour.  She  had  self-command  enough  to 
speak  with  her  usual  silvery  voice. 

"  Pray  go  on,  Mr.  Holt.  Relieve  yourself  of 
these  burning  truths.  I  am  sure  they  must  be 
troublesome  to  carry  unuttered." 

"  Yes,  they  are,"  said  Felix,  pausing,  and  standing 
not  far  off  her.  "  I  can't  bear  to  see  you  going  the 
way  of  the  foolish  women  who  spoil  men's  lives. 
Men  can't  help  loving  them,  and  so  they  make 
themselves  slaves  to  the  petty  desires  of  petty 
creatures.  That's  the  way  those  who  might  do 
better  spend  their  lives  for  nought,  —  get  checked 
in  every  great  effort,  —  toil  with  brain  and  limb  for 
things  that  have  no  more  to  do  with  a  manly  life 
than  tarts  and  confectionery.  That 's  what  makes 
women  a  curse ;  all  life  is  stunted  to  suit  their 
littleness.  That 's  why  I  '11  never  love,  if  I  can 
help  it;  and  if  I  love,  I'll  bear  it,  and  nevei 
marry." 

The  tumult  of  feeling  in  Esther's  mind  —  morti- 


174  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

fication,  anger,  the  sense  of  a  terrible  power  over 
her  that  Felix  seemed  to  have  as  his  angry  words 
vibrated  through  her  —  was  getting  almost  too 
much  for  her  self-control.  She  felt  her  lips  quiver- 
ing ;  but  her  pride,  which  feared  nothing  so  much 
as  the  betrayal  of  her  emotion,  helped  her  to  a 
desperate  effort.  She  pinched  her  own  hand  hard 
to  overcome  her  tremor,  and  said,  in  a  tone  of 
scorn,  — 

"  I  ought  to  be  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  giv- 
ing me  your  confidence  so  freely." 

"  Ah !  now  you  are  offended  with  me,  and  dis- 
gusted with  me.  I  expected  it  would  be  so.  A 
woman  does  n't  like  a  man  who  tells  her  the 
truth." 

"I  think  you  boast  a  little  too  much  of  your 
truth-telling,  Mr.  Holt,"  said  Esther,  flashing  out 
at  last  "  That  virtue  is  apt  to  be  easy  to  people 
when  they  only  wound  others  and  not  themselves. 
Telling  the  truth  often  means  no  more  than  taking 
a  liberty." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  I  should  have  been  taking  a 
liberty  if  I  had  tried  to  drag  you  back  by  the  skirt 
when  I  saw  you  running  into  a  pit." 

"You  should  really  found  a  sect.  Preaching  is 
your  vocation.  It  is  a  pity  you  should  ever  have 
an  audience  of  only  one." 

"  I  see ;  I  have  made  a  fool  of  myself.  I  thought 
you  had  a  more  generous  mind,  —  that  you  might 
be  kindled  to  a  better  ambition.  But  I  've  set 
your  vanity  aflame,  —  nothing  else.  I  'm  going. 
Good-by." 

"  Good-by,"  said  Esther,  not  looking  at  him.  He 
did  not  open  the  door  immediately.  He  seemed 
to  be  adjusting  his  cap  and  pulling  it  down.    Esther 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  175 

longed  to  be  able  to  throw  a  lasso  round  him  and 
compel  him  to  stay,  that  she  might  say  what  she 
chose  to  him ;  her  very  anger  made  this  departure 
irritating,  especially  as  he  had  the  last  word,  and 
that  a  very  bitter  one.  But  soon  the  latch  was  lifted, 
and  the  door  closed  behind  him.  She  ran  up  to 
her  bedroom  and  burst  into  tears.  Poor  maiden ! 
There  was  a  strange  contradiction  of  impulses  in 
her  mind  in  those  first  moments.  She  could  not 
bear  that  Felix  should  not  respect  her,  yet  she 
could  not  bear  that  he  should  see  her  bend 
before  his  denunciation.  She  revolted  against  his 
assumption  of  superiority,  yet  she  felt  herself  in  a 
new  kind  of  subjection  to  him.  He  was  ill-bred, 
he  was  rude,  he  had  taken  an  unwarrantable  lib- 
erty ;  yet  his  indignant  words  were  a  tribute  to  her : 
he  thought  she  was  worth  more  pains  than  the 
women  of  whom  he  took  no  notice.  It  was  exces- 
sively impertinent  in  him  to  tell  her  of  his  resolv- 
ing not  to  love,  —  not  to  marry,  —  as  if  she  cared 
about  that ;  as  if  he  thought  himself  likely  to  in- 
spire an  affection  that  would  incline  any  woman 
to  marry  him  after  such  eccentric  steps  as  he  had 
taken.  Had  he  ever  for  a  moment  imagined  that 
she  had  thought  of  him  in  the  light  of  a  man  who 
would  make  love  to  her  ?  .  .  .  But  did  he  love  her 
one  little  bit,  and  was  that  the  reason  why  he 
wanted  her  to  change  ?  Esther  felt  less  angry  at 
that  form  of  freedom ;  though  she  was  quite  sure 
that  she  did  not  love  him,  and  that  she  could  never 
love  any  one  who  was  so  much  of  a  pedagogue  and 
a  master,  to  say  nothing  of  his  oddities.  But  he 
wanted  her  to  change.  For  the  first  time  in  her 
life  Esther  felt  herself  seriously  shaken  in  her  self- 
contentment.    She  knew  there  was  a  mind  to  which 


176  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

she  appeared  trivial,  narrow,  selfish.  Every  word 
Felix  had  said  to  her  seemed  to  have  burned  itself 
into  her  memory.  She  felt  as  if  she  should  forever- 
more  be  haunted  by  self-criticism,  and  never  do 
anything  to  satisfy  those  fancies  on  which  she  had 
simply  piqued  herself  before  without  being  dogged 
by  inward  questions.  Her  father's  desire  for  her 
conversion  had  never  moved  her ;  she  saw  that  he 
adored  her  all  the  while,  and  he  never  checked  hei 
unregenerate  acts  as  if  they  degraded  her  on  earth, 
but  only  mourned  over  them  as  unfitting  her  for 
heaven.  Unfitness  for  heaven  (spoken  of  as  "  Je- 
rusalem "  and  "  glory  ")  ;  the  prayers  of  a  good  little 
father,  whose  thoughts  and  motives  seemed  to  her 
like  the  "  Life  of  Dr.  Doddridge,"  which  she  was 
content  to  leave  unread,  —  did  not  attack  her  self- 
respect  and  self-satisfaction.  But  now  she  had 
been  stung,  —  stung  even  into  a  new  consciousness 
concerning  her  father.  Was  it  true  that  his  life 
was  so  much  worthier  than  her  own  ?  She  could 
not  change  for  anything  Felix  said,  but  she  told 
herself  he  was  mistaken  if  he  supposed  her  inca- 
pable of  generous  thoughts. 

She  heard  her  father  coming  into  the  house.  She 
dried  her  tears,  tried  to  recover  herself  hurriedly, 
and  went  down  to  him. 

"  You  want  your  tea,  father ;  how  your  forehead 
burns  ! "  she  said  gently,  kissing  his  brow,  and  then 
putting  her  cool  hand  on  it. 

Mr.  Lyon  felt  a  little  surprise  ;  such  spontaneous 
tenderness  was  not  quite  common  with  her ;  it  re- 
minded him  of  her  mother. 

"My  sweet  child,"  he  said  gratefully,  thinking 
with  wonder  of  the  treasures  still  left  in  our  fallen 
nature. 


CHAPTEK  XL 

Truth  is  the  precious  harvest  of  the  earth. 
But  once,  when  harvest  waved  upon  a  land, 
The  noisome  cankerworm  and  caterpillar, 
Locusts,  and  all  the  swarming  foul-born  broods, 
Fastened  upon  it  with  swift,  greedy  jaws, 
And  turned  the  harvest  into  pestilence, 
Until  men  said,  What  profits  it  to  sow  ? 

Felix  was  going  to  Sproxton  that  Sunday  after- 
noon. He  always  enjoyed  his  walk  to  that  outlying 
hamlet;  it  took  him  (by  a  short  cut)  through  a 
corner  of  Sir  Maximus  Debarry's  park ;  then  across 
a  piece  of  common,  broken  here  and  there  into  red 
ridges  below  dark  masses  of  furze ;  and  for  the  rest 
of  the  way  alongside  the  canal,  where  the  Sunday 
peacefulness  that  seemed  to  rest  on  the  bordering 
meadows  and  pastures  was  hardly  broken  if  a  horse 
pulled  into  sight  along  the  towing-path,  and  a  boat, 
with  a  little  curl  of  blue  smoke  issuing  from  its  tin 
chimney,  came  slowly  gliding  behind.  Felix  re- 
tained something  of  his  boyish  impression  that  the 
days  in  a  canal-boat  were  all  like  Sundays ;  but  the 
horse,  if  it  had  been  put  to  him,  would  probably 
have  preferred  a  more  Judaic  or  Scotch  rigour  with 
regard  to  canal-boats,  or  at  least  that  the  Sunday 
towing  should  be  done  by  asses,  as  a  lower  order. 

This  canal  was  only  a  branch  of  the  grand  trunk, 
and  ended  among  the  coal-pits,  where  Felix,  cross- 
ing a  network  of  black  tramroads,  socn  came  to  his 

VOL.  I.  — 12 


178  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

destination,  —  that  public  institute  of  Sproxton, 
known  to  its  frequenters  chiefly  as  Chubb's,  but 
less  familiarly  as  the  Sugar  Loaf,  or  the  New  Pits  ; 
this  last  being  the  name  for  the  more  modern  and 
lively  nucleus  of  the  Sproxton  hamlet.  The  other 
nucleus,  known  as  the  Old  Pits,  also  supported  its 
"  public,"  but  it  had  something  of  the  forlorn  air  of 
an  abandoned  capital ;  and  the  company  at  the  Blue 
Cow  was  of  an  inferior  kind,  —  equal,  of  course,  in 
the  fundamental  attributes  of  humanity,  such  as 
desire  for  beer,  but  not  equal  in  ability  to  pay 
for  it. 

When  Felix  arrived,  the  great  Chubb  was  stand- 
ing at  the  door.  Mr.  Chubb  was  a  remarkable  pub- 
lican ;  none  of  your  stock  Bonifaces,  red,  bloated, 
jolly,  and  joking.  He  was  thin  and  sallow,  and  was 
never,  as  his  constant  guests  observed,  seen  to  be 
the  worse  (or  the  better)  for  liquor ;  indeed,  as 
among  soldiers  an  eminent  general  was  held  to  have 
a  charmed  life,  Chubb  was  held  by  the  members  of 
the  Benefit  Club  to  have  a  charmed  sobriety,  a 
vigilance  over  his  own  interest  that  resisted  all 
narcotics.  His  very  dreams,  as  stated  by  himself, 
had  a  method  in  them  beyond  the  waking  thoughts 
of  other  men.  Pharaoh's  dream,  he  observed,  was 
nothing  to  them;  and,  as  lying  so  much  out  of 
ordinary  experience,  they  were  held  particularly 
suitable  for  narration  on  Sunday  evenings,  when  the 
listening  colliers,  well  washed  and  in  their  best 
coats,  shook  their  heads  with  a  sense  of  that  pecu- 
liar edification  which  belongs  to  the  inexplicable. 
Mr.  Chubb's  reasons  for  becoming  landlord  of  the 
Sugar  Loaf  were  founded  on  the  severest  calculation. 
Having  an  active  mind,  and  being  averse  to  bodily 
labour,  he  had  thoroughly  considered  what  calling 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  179 

would  yield  him  the  best  livelihood  with  the  least 
possible  exertion,  and  in  that  sort  of  line  he  had 
seen  that  a  "  public "  amongst  miners  who  earned 
high  wages  was  a  fine  opening.  He  had  prospered 
according  to  the  merits  of  such  judicious  calculation, 
was  already  a  forty-shilling  freeholder,  and  was  con- 
scious of  a  vote  for  the  county.  He  was  not  one  of 
those  mean-spirited  men  who  found  the  franchise 
embarrassing,  and  would  rather  have  been  without 
it :  he  regarded  his  vote  as  part  of  his  investment, 
and  meant  to  make  the  best  of  it.  He  called  him- 
self a  straightforward  man,  and  at  suitable  moments 
expressed  his  views  freely ;  in  fact,  he  was  known 
to  have  one  fundamental  division  for  all  opinion,  — 
"  my  idee  "  and  "  humbug." 

When  Felix  approached,  Mr.  Chubb  was  stand- 
ing, as  usual,  with  his  hands  nervously  busy  in  his 
pockets,  his  eyes  glancing  round  with  a  detective 
expression  at  the  black  landscape,  and  his  lipless 
mouth  compressed,  yet  in  constant  movement.  On 
a  superficial  view  it  might  be  supposed  that  so  eager- 
seeming  a  personality  was  unsuited  to  the  publican's 
business ;  but  in  fact  it  was  a  great  provocative  to 
drinking.  Like  the  shrill,  biting  talk  of  a  vixenish 
wife,  it  would  have  compelled  you  to  "  take  a  little 
something  "  by  way  of  dulling  your  sensibility. 

Hitherto,  notwithstanding  Felix  drank  so  little 
ale,  the  publican  had  treated  him  with  high  civility. 
The  coming  election  was  a  great  opportunity  for 
applying  his  political  "idee,"  which  was  that 
society  existed  for  the  sake  of  the  individual,  and 
that  the  name  of  that  individual  was  Chubb.  Now, 
from  a  conjunction  of  absurd  circumstances  inconsis- 
tent with  that  idea,  it  happened  that  Sproxton  had 
been  hitherto  somewhat  neglected  in  the  canvass. 


180  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

The  head  member  of  the  Company  that  worked  the 
mines  was  Mr.  Peter  Garstin,  and  the  same  com- 
pany received  the  rent  for  the  Sugar  Loaf.  Hence, 
as  the  person  who  had  the  most  power  of  annoying 
Mr.  Chubb,  and  being  of  detriment  to  him,  Mr. 
Garstin  was  naturally  the  candidate  for  whom  he 
had  reserved  his  vote.  But  where  there  is  this 
intention  of  ultimately  gratifying  a  gentleman  by 
voting  for  him  in  an  open  British  manner  on  the 
day  of  the  poll,  a  man,  whether  Publican  or  Phar- 
isee (Mr.  Chubb  used  this  generic  classification  of 
mankind  as  one  that  was  sanctioned  by  Scripture), 
is  all  the  freer  in  his  relations  with  those  deluded 
persons  who  take  him  for  what  he  is  not,  and 
imagine  him  to  be  a  waverer.  But  for  some  time 
opportunity  had  seemed  barren.  There  were  but 
three  dubious  votes  besides  Mr.  Chubb' s  in  the 
small  district  of  which  the  Sugar  Loaf  could  be 
regarded  as  the  centre  of  intelligence  and  inspira- 
tion :  the  colliers,  of  course,  had  no  votes,  and  did 
not  need  political  conversion  ;  consequently,  the  in- 
terests of  Sproxton  had  only  been  tacitly  cherished 
in  the  breasts  of  candidates.  But  ever  since  it  had 
been  known  that  a  Badical  candidate  was  in  the 
field,  that  in  consequence  of  this  Mr.  Debarry  had 
coalesced  with  Mr.  Garstin,  and  that  Sir  James 
Clement,  the  poor  baronet,  had  retired,  Mr.  Chubb 
had  been  occupied  with  the  most  ingenious  mental 
combinations  in  order  to  ascertain  what  possibilities 
of  profit  to  the  Sugar  Loaf  might  lie  in  this  altered 
state  of  the  canvass. 

He  had  a  cousin  in  another  county,  also  a  publi- 
can, but  in  a  larger  way,  and  resident  in  a  borough, 
and  from  him  Mr.  Chubb  had  gathered  more  detailed 
political   information   than   he   could   find   in    the 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  iSc 

Loamshire  newspapers.  He  was  now  enlightened 
enough  to  know  that  there  was  a  way  of  using  vote- 
less miners  and  navvies  at  Nominations  and  Elec- 
tions. He  approved  of  that ;  it  entered  into  his 
political  "  idee  ; "  and  indeed  he  would  have  been 
for  extending  the  franchise  to  this  class,  —  at  least 
in  Sproxton.  If  any  one  had  observed  that  you 
must  draw  a  line  somewhere,  Mr.  Chubb  would 
have  concurred  at  once,  and  would  have  given  per- 
mission to  draw  it  at  a  radius  of  two  miles  from  his 
own  tap. 

From  the  first  Sunday  evening  when  Felix  had 
appeared  at  the  Sugar  Loaf,  Mr.  Chubb  had  made 
up  his  mind  that  this  'cute  man  who  kept  himself 
sober  was  an  electioneering  agent.  That  he  was  hired 
for  some  purpose  or  other,  there  was  not  a  doubt ;  a 
man  did  n't  come  and  drink  nothing  without  a  good 
reason.  In  proportion  as  Felix's  purpose  was  not 
obvious  to  Chubb's  mind,  it  must  be  deep  ;  and  this 
growing  conviction  had  even  led  the  publican  on  the 
last  Sunday  evening  privately  to  urge  his  myste- 
rious visitor  to  let  a  little  ale  be  chalked  up  for  him, 
—  it  was  of  no  consequence.  Felix  knew  his  man, 
and  had  taken  care  not  to  betray  too  soon  that  his 
real  object  was  so  to  win  the  ear  of  the  best  fellows 
about  him  as  to  induce  them  to  meet  him  on  a 
Saturday  evening  in  the  room  where  Mr.  Lyon,  or 
one  of  his  deacons,  habitually  held  his  Wednesday 
preachings.  Only  women  and  children,  three  old 
men,  a  journeyman  tailor,  and  a  consumptive  youth, 
attended  those  preachings;  not  a  collier  had  been 
won  from  the  strong  ale  of  the  Sugar  Loaf,  not  even 
a  navvy  from  the  muddier  drink  of  the  Blue  Cow. 
Felix  was  sanguine ;  he  saw  some  pleasant  faces 
among   the   miners   when    they    were   washed   on 


182  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Sundays  ;  they  might  be  taught  to  spend  their  wages 
better.  At  all  events,  he  was  going  to  try  :  he  had 
great  confidence  in  his  powers  of  appeal,  and  it  was 
quite  true  that  he  never  spoke  without  arresting 
attention.  There  was  nothing  better  than  a  dame 
school  in  the  hamlet ;  he  thought  that  if  he  could 
move  the  fathers,  whose  blackened  week-day  persons 
and  flannel  caps,  ornamented  with  tallow  candles  by 
way  of  plume,  were  a  badge  of  hard  labour  for  which 
he  had  a  more  sympathetic  fibre  than  for  any  ribbon 
in  the  button-hole,  —  if  he  could  move  these  men  to 
save  something  from  their  drink  and  pay  a  school- 
master for  their  boys,  —  a  greater  service  would  be 
done  them  than  if  Mr.  Garstin  and  his  company 
were  persuaded  to  establish  a  school. 

"  1 11  lay  hold  of  them  by  their  fatherhood,"  said 
Felix  ;  "  I  '11  take  one  of  their  little  fellows  and  set 
him  in  the  midst.  Till  they  can  show  there 's  some- 
thing they  love  better  than  swilling  themselves 
with  ale,  extension  of  the  suffrage  can  never  mean 
anything  for  them  but  extension  of  boozing.  One 
must  begin  somewhere  :  I  '11  begin  at  what  is  under 
my  nose.  I  '11  begin  at  Sproxton.  That 's  what  a 
man  would  do  if  he  had  a  red-hot  superstition. 
Can't  one  work  for  sober  truth  as  hard  as  for 
megrims  ? " 

Felix  Holt  had  his  illusions,  like  other  young 
men,  though  they  were  not  of  a  fashionable  sort; 
referring  neither  to  the  impression  his  costume  and 
horsemanship  might  make  on  beholders,  nor  to  the 
ease  with  which  he  would  pay  the  Jews  when  he 
gave  a  loose  to  his  talents  and  applied  himself  to 
work.  He  had  fixed  his  choice  on  a  certain  Mike 
Brindle  (not  that  Brindle  was  his  real  name,  —  each 
collier  had  his  sobriquet)  as  the  man  whom  he 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  183 

would  induce  to  walk  part  of  the  way  home  with 
him  this  very  evening,  and  get  to  invite  some  of  his 
comrades  for  the  next  Saturday.  Brindle  was  one 
of  the  head  miners  ;  he  had  a  bright  good-natured 
face,  and  had  given  especial  attention  to  certain 
performances  with  a  magnet  which  Felix  carried  in 
his  pocket. 

Mr.  Chubb,  who  had  also  his  illusions,  smiled 
graciously  as  the  enigmatic  customer  came  up  to 
the  door-step. 

"  Well,  sir,  Sunday  seems  to  be  your  day ;  I  begin 
to  look  for  you  on  a  Sunday  now." 

"  Yes,  I  'm  a  working-man ;  Sunday  is  my  holi- 
day," said  Felix,  pausing  at  the  door  since  the  host 
seemed  to  expect  this. 

"  Ah,  sir,  there  's  many  ways  of  working.  I  look 
at  it  you  're  one  of  those  as  work  with  your  brains. 
That's  what  I  do  myself." 

"  One  may  do  a  good  deal  of  that  and  work  with 
one 's  hands  too." 

"  Ah,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Chubb,  with  a  certain  bitter- 
ness in  his  smile,  "  I  've  that  sort  of  head  that  I  've 
often  wished  I  was  stupider.  I  use  things  up,  sir ; 
I  see  into  things  a  deal  too  quick.  I  eat  my  dinner, 
as  you  may  say,  at  breakfast-time.  That 's  why  I 
hardly  ever  smoke  a  pipe.  No  sooner  do  I  stick  a 
pipe  in  my  mouth  than  I  puff  and  puff  till  it 's  gone 
before  other  folks'  are  well  lit ;  and  then,  where 
am  I  ?  I  might  as  well  have  let  it  alone.  In  this 
world  it's  better  not  to  be  too  quick.  But  you 
know  what  it  is,  sir." 

"  Not  I,"  said  Felix,  rubbing  the  back  of  his  head, 
with  a  grimace.  ''I  generally  feel  myself  rather 
a  blockhead.  The  world's  a  largish  place,  and  I 
have  n't  turned  everything  inside  out  yet," 


184  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Ah,  that 's  your  deepness.  I  think  we  under- 
stand one  another.  And  about  this  here  election,  I 
lay  two  to  one  we  should  agree  if  we  was  to  come 
to  talk  about  it." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Felix,  with  an  air  of  caution. 

"  You  're  none  of  a  Tory,  eh,  sir  ?  You  won't  go 
to  vote  for  Debarry  ?  That  was  what  I  said  at  the 
very  first  go-off.  Says  I,  he  's  no  Tory.  I  think  I 
was  right,  sir,  —  eh  ? " 

"  Certainly  ;  I  'm  no  Tory." 

"  No,  no,  you  don't  catch  me  wrong  in  a  hurry. 
Well,  between  you  and  me,  I  care  no  more  for  the 
Debarrys  than  I  care  for  Johnny  Groats.  I  live  on 
none  o'  their  land,  and  not  a  pot's-worth  did  they 
ever  send  to  the  Sugar  Loaf.  I  'm  not  frightened 
at  the  Debarrys  ;  there  's  no  man  more  independent 
than  me.  I  '11  plump  or  I  '11  split  for  them  as  treat 
me  the  handsomest  and  are  the  most  of  what  I  call 
gentlemen ;  that 's  my  idee.  And  in  the  way  of 
hacting  for  any  man,  them  are  fools  that  don't 
employ  me." 

We  mortals  sometimes  cut  a  pitiable  figure  in  our 
attempts  at  display.  We  may  be  sure  of  our  own 
merits,  yet  fatally  ignorant  of  the  point  of  view 
from  which  we  are  regarded  by  our  neighbour. 
Our  fine  patterns  in  tattooing  may  be  far  from 
throwing  him  into  a  swoon  of  admiration,  though 
we  turn  ourselves  all  round  to  show  them.  Thus 
it  was  with  Mr.  Chubb. 

"  Yes,"  said  Felix,  dryly  ;  "  I  should  think  there 
are  some  sorts  of  work  for  which  you  are  just 
fitted." 

"Ah,  you  see  that?  Well,  we  understand  one 
another.  You  're  no  Tory  ;  no  more  am  I.  And 
if  I  'd  got  four  hands  to  show  at  a  nomination,  the 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  185 

Debarrys  should  n't  have  one  of  'em.  My  idee  is, 
there 's  a  deal  too  much  of  their  scutchins  and 
their  moniments  in  Treby  Church.  What's  their 
scutchins  mean  ?  They  're  a  sign  with  little  liquor 
behind  'em ;  that 's  how  I  take  it.  There 's  nobody 
can  give  account  of  'em  as  I  ever  heard." 

Mr.  Chubb  was  hindered  from  further  explaining 
his  views  as  to  the  historical  element  in  society  by 
the  arrival  of  new  guests,  who  approached  in  two 
groups.  The  foremost  group  consisted  of  well- 
known  colliers,  in  their  good  Sunday  beavers  and 
coloured  handkerchiefs  serving  as  cravats,  with  the 
long  ends  floating.  The  second  group  was  a  more 
unusual  one,  and  caused  Mr.  Chubb  to  compress  his 
mouth  and  agitate  the  muscles  about  it  in  rather  an 
excited  manner. 

First  came  a  smartly  dressed  personage  on  horse- 
back, with  a  conspicuous  expansive  shirt-front  and 
figured  satin  stock.  He  was  a  stout  man,  and  gave 
a  strong  sense  of  broadcloth.  A  wild  idea  shot 
through  Mr.  Chubb's  brain :  could  this  grand  visitor 
be  Harold  Transome  ?  Excuse  him :  he  had  been 
given  to  understand  by  his  cousin  from  the  distant 
borough  that  a  Eadical  candidate  in  the  condescen- 
sion of  canvassing  had  even  gone  the  length  of 
eating  bread-and-treacle  with  the  children  of  an 
honest  freeman,  and  declaring  his  preference  for 
that  simple  fare.  Mr.  Chubb's  notion  of  a  Radical 
was  that  he  was  a  new  and  agreeable  kind  of  lick- 
spittle who  fawned  on  the  poor  instead  of  on  the 
rich,  and  so  was  likely  to  send  customers  to  a 
"  public  ; "  so  that  he  argued  well  enough  from  the 
premises  at  his  command. 

The  mounted  man  of  broadcloth  had  followers,  — 
several  shabby-looking  men,  and  Sproxton  boys  of 


186  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

all  sizes,  whose  curiosity  had  heen  stimulated  by 
unexpected  largesse.  A  stranger  on  horseback 
scattering  halfpence  on  a  Sunday  was  so  unprece- 
dented that  there  was  no  knowing  what  he  might 
do  next;  and  the  smallest  hindmost  fellows  in 
sealskin  caps  were  not  without  hope  that  an  en- 
tirely new  order  of  things  had  set  in. 

Every  one  waited  outside  for  the  stranger  to  dis- 
mount, and  Mr.  Chubb  advanced  to  take  the  bridle. 

"Well,  Mr.  Chubb,"  were  the  first  words  when 
the  great  man  was  safely  out  of  the  saddle,  "  I  've 
often  heard  of  your  fine  tap,  and  I  :m  come  to  taste 
it." 

"  Walk  in,  sir,  —  pray  walk  in,"  said  Mr.  Chubb, 
giving  the  horse  to  the  stable-boy.  "I  shall  be 
proud  to  draw  for  you.  If  anybody  's  been  praising 
me,  I  think  my  ale  will  back  him." 

All  entered  in  the  rear  of  the  stranger  except  the 
boys,  who  peeped  in  at  the  window. 

"  Won't  you  please  to  walk  into  the  parlour,  sir  ? " 
said  Chubb,  obsequiously. 

"  No,  no,  I  '11  sit  down  here.  This  is  what  I  like 
to  see,"  said  the  stranger,  looking  round  at  the  col- 
liers, who  eyed  him  rather  shyly,  —  "a  bright  hearth 
where  working-men  can  enjoy  themselves.  How- 
ever, I'll  step  into  the  other  room  for  three  min- 
utes, just  to  speak  half-a-dozen  words  with  you." 

Mr.  Chubb  threw  open  the  parlour  door,  and  then 
stepping  back,  took  the  opportunity  of  saying  in  a 
low  tone  to  Felix,  "  Do  you  know  this  gentleman  ? " 

"  Not  I ;  no." 

Mr.  Chubb's  opinion  of  Felix  Holt  sank  from  that 
moment.  The  parlour  door  was  closed,  but  no  one 
eat  down  or  ordered  beer. 

"  I  say,  master,"  said  Mike  Brindle,  going  up  to 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  187 

Felix,  "don't  you  think  that's  one  o'  the  'lection 
men?" 

"  Very  likely." 

"  I  heared  a  chap  say  they  're  up  and  down  every- 
where," said  Brindle ;  "  and  now 's  the  time,  they 
say,  when  a  man  can  get  beer  for  nothing." 

"Ay,  that's  sin'  the  Reform,"  said  a  big,  red- 
whiskered  man,  called  Dredge.  "  That 's  brought  the 
'lections  and  the  drink  into  these  parts  ;  for  afore 
that,  it  was  all  kep'  up  the  Lord  knows  wheer." 

"Well,  but  the  Reform's  niver  come  anigh 
Sprox'on,"  said  a  gray-haired  but  stalwart  man 
called  Old  Sleek.  "  I  don't  believe  nothing  about'n, 
I  don't." 

"  Don't  you  ?  "  said  Brindle,  with  some  contempt. 
"  Well,  I  do.  There  's  folks  won't  believe  beyond 
the  end  o'  their  own  pickaxes.  You  can't  drive 
nothing  into  'em,  not  if  you  split  their  skulls.  I 
know  for  certain  sure,  from  a  chap  in  the  cartin' 
way,  as  he 's  got  money  and  drink  too,  only  for 
hollering.  Eh,  master,  what  do  you  say  ? "  Brindle 
ended,  turning  with  some  deference  to  Felix. 

"Should  you  like  to  know  all  about  the  Re- 
form ? "  said  Felix,  using  his  opportunity.  "  If  you 
would,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  Ay,  ay,  —  tell 's ;  you  know,  I  '11  be  bound," 
said  several  voices  at  once. 

"  Ah,  but  it  will  take  some  little  time.  And  we 
must  be  quiet.  The  cleverest  of  you  —  those  who 
are  looked  up  to  in  the  Club  —  must  come  and 
meet  me  at  Peggy  Button's  cottage  next  Saturday, 
at  seven  o'clock,  after  dark.  And,  Brindle,  you  must 
bring  that  little  yellow-haired  lad  of  yours.  And 
anybody  that 's  got  a  little  boy  —  a  very  little 
fellow,  who    won't    understand    what    is    said  — 


188  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

may  bring  him.  But  you  must  keep  it  close,  you 
know.  We  don't  want  fools  there.  But  everybody 
who  hears  me  may  come.  I  shall  be  at  Peggy 
Button's." 

"Why,  that's  where  the  Wednesday  preachin' 
is,"  said  Dredge.  "  I  've  been  a-forced  to  give  my 
wife  a  black  eye  to  hinder  her  from  going  to  the 
preachin.'  Lors-a-massy,  she  thinks  she  knows 
better  nor  me,  and  I  can't  make  head  nor  tail  of 
her  talk." 

"  Why  can't  you  let  the  woman  alone  ? "  said  Brin- 
dle,  with  some  disgust.  "  I  'd  be  ashamed  to  beat 
a  poor  crawling  thing  'cause  she  likes  preaching." 

"  No  more  I  did  beat  her  afore,  not  if  she  scrat'  me," 
said  Dredge,  in  vindication ;  "  but  if  she  jabbers  at 
me,  I  can't  abide  it.  Howsomever,  I  '11  bring  my 
Jack  to  Peggy's  o'  Saturday.  His  mother  shall 
wash  him.  He  is  but  four  year  old,  and  he'll 
swear  and  square  at  me  a  good  un,  if  I  set  him  on." 

"  There  you  go  blatherin',"  said  Brindle,  intend- 
ing a  mild  rebuke. 

This  dialogue,  which  was  in  danger  of  becoming 
too  personal,  was  interrupted  by  the  reopening  of 
the  parlour  door,  and  the  reappearance  of  the  impres- 
sive stranger  with  Mr.  Chubb,  whose  countenance 
seemed  unusually  radiant. 

"  Sit  you  down  here,  Mr.  Johnson,"  said  Chubb, 
moving  an  arm-chair.  "  This  gentleman  is  kind 
enough  to  treat  the  company,"  he  added,  looking 
round,  "  and  what 's  more,  he  '11  take  a  cup  with 
'em ;  and  I  think  there  's  no  man  but  what  '11  say 
that's  a  honour." 

The  company  had  nothing  equivalent  to  a  "  Hear ! 
hear !  "  at  command ;  but  they  perhaps  felt  the  more, 
as   they   seated   themselves   with    an   expectation 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  189 

(invented  by  utterance.  There  was  a  general  satis- 
factory sense  that  the  hitherto  shadowy  Reform  had 
at  length  come  to  Sproxton  in  a  good  round  shape, 
with  broadcloth  and  pockets.  Felix  did  not  intend 
to  accept  the  treating;  but  he  chose  to  stay  and 
hear,  taking  his  pint  as  usual. 

"  Capital  ale,  capital  ale  ! "  said  Mr.  Johnson,  as  he 
set  down  his  glass,  speaking  in  a  quick,  smooth 
treble.  "  Now,"  he  went  on,  with  a  certain  pathos 
in  his  voice,  looking  at  Mr.  Chubb,  who  sat  opposite, 
"  there  's  some  satisfaction  to  me  in  finding  an  es- 
tablishment like  this  at  the  Pits.  For  what  would 
higher  wages  do  for  the  working-man  if  he  could  n't 
get  a  good  article  for  his  money  ?  Why,  gentle- 
men," —  here  he  looked  round,  —  "I  've  been  into 
alehouses  where  I  've  seen  a  fine  fellow  of  a  miner 
or  a  stone-cutter  come  in  and  have  to  lay  down 
money  for  beer  that  I  should  be  sorry  to  give  to  my 
pigs ! "  Here  Mr.  Johnson  leaned  forward  with 
squared  elbows,  hands  placed  on  his  knees,  and  a 
defiant  shake  of  the  head. 

"  Aw,  like  at  the  Blue  Cow,"  fell  in  the  irrepres- 
sible Dredge,  in  a  deep  bass ;  but  he  was  rebuked 
by  a  severe  nudge  from  Brindle. 

"  Yes,  yes,  you  know  what  it  is,  my  friend,"  said 
Mr.  Johnson,  looking  at  Dredge,  and  restoring  his 
self-satisfaction.  "  But  it  won't  last  much  longer  ; 
that 's  one  good  thing.  Bad  liquor  will  be  swept 
away  with  other  bad  articles.  Trade  will  prosper,  — 
and  what 's  trade  now  without  steam,  and  what  is 
steam  without  coal  ?  And  mark  you  this,  gentle- 
men, —  there 's  no  man  and  no  government  can 
make  coal." 

A  brief,  loud  "  Haw,  haw ! "  showed  that  this  fact 
•was  appreciated. 


190  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  Nor  freeston',  nayther,"  said  a  wide-mouthed 
wiry  man  called  Gills,  who  wished  for  an  exhaus- 
tive treatment  of  the  subject,  being  a  stone-cutter. 

"  Nor  freestone,  as  you  say ;  else,  I  think,  if  coal 
could  be  made  above  ground,  honest  fellows  who  are 
the  pith  of  our  population  would  not  have  to  bend 
their  backs  and  sweat  in  a  pit  six  days  out  of  the 
seven.  No,  no :  I  say,  as  this  country  prospers  it 
has  more  and  more  need  of  you,  sirs.  It  can  do 
without  a  pack  of  lazy  lords  and  ladies,  but  it  can 
never  do  without  brave  colliers.  And  the  country 
will  prosper.  I  pledge  you  my  word,  sirs,  this 
country  will  rise  to  the  tip-top  of  everything,  and 
there  isn't  a  man  in  it  but  what  shall  have  his  joint 
in  the  pot,  and  his  spare  money  jingling  in  his 
pocket,  if  we  only  exert  ourselves  to  send  the  right 
men  to  Parliament,  —  men  who  will  speak  up  for 
the  collier  and  the  stone-cutter  and  the  navvy " 
(Mr.  Johnson  waved  his  hand  liberally),  "  and  will 
stand  no  nonsense.  This  is  a  crisis,  and  we  must 
exert  ourselves.  We  've  got  Reform,  gentlemen,  but 
now  the  thing  is  to  make  Eeform  work.  It 's  a 
crisis,  —  I  pledge  you  my  word,  it 's  a  crisis." 

Mr.  Johnson  threw  himself  back  as  if  from  the 
concussion  of  that  great  noun.  He  did  not  suppose 
that  one  of  his  audience  knew  what  a  crisis  meant ; 
but  he  had  large  experience  in  the  effect  of  uncom- 
prehended  words;  and  in  this  case  the  colliers 
were  thrown  into  a  state  of  conviction  concerning 
they  did  not  know  what,  which  was  a  fine  preparation 
for  "hitting  out,"  or  any  other  act  carrying  a  due 
sequence  to  such  a  conviction. 

Felix  felt  himself  in  danger  of  getting  into  a 
rage.  There  is  hardly  any  mental  misery  worse 
than  that  of  having  our  own  serious  phrases,  our 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  191 

own  rooted  beliefs,  caricatured  by  a  charlatan 
or  a  hireling.  He  began  to  feel  the  sharp  lower 
edge  of  his  tin  pint-measure,  and  to  think  it  a 
tempting  missile. 

Mr.  Johnson  certainly  had  some  qualifications  as 
an  orator.  After  this  impressive  pause  he  leaned 
forward  again,  and  said,  in  a  lowered  tone,  looking 
round,  — 

"  I  think  you  all  know  the  good  news." 

There  was  a  movement  of  shoe-soles  on  the 
quarried  floor,  and  a  scrape  of  some  chair-legs,  but 
no  other  answer. 

"  The  good  news  I  mean  is  that  a  first-rate  man, 
Mr.  Transome  of  Transome  Court,  has  offered  him- 
self to  represent  you  in  Parliament,  sirs.  I  say  you 
in  particular,  for  what  he  has  at  heart  is  the  welfare 
of  the  working-man,  —  of  the  brave  fellows  that 
wield  the  pickaxe  and  the  saw  and  the  hammer. 
He  's  rich,  —  has  more  money  than  Garstin,  —  but 
he  does  n't  want  to  keep  it  to  himself.  What  he 
wants  is  to  make  a  good  use  of  it,  gentlemen. 
He 's  come  back  from  foreign  parts  with  his  pockets 
full  of  gold.  He  could  buy  up  the  Debarrys  if  they 
were  worth  buying,  but  he  's  got  something  better 
to  do  with  his  money.  He  means  to  use  it  for  the 
good  of  the  working-men  in  these  parts.  I  know 
there  are  some  men  who  put  up  for  Parliament  and 
talk  a  little  too  big.  They  may  say  they  want  to 
befriend  the  colliers,  for  example.  But  I  should 
like  to  put  a  question  to  them.  I  should  like  to  ask 
them,  '  What  colliers  ? '  There  are  colliers  up  at 
Newcastle,  and  there  are  colliers  down  in  Wales. 
Will  it  do  any  good  to  honest  Tom,  who  is  hungry 
in  Sproxton,  to  hear  that  Jack  at  Newcastle  has  his 
bellyful  of  beef  and  pudding  ? " 


192  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  It  ought  to  do  him  good,"  Felix  burst  in,  with 
his  loud  abrupt  voice,  in  odd  contrast  with  glib  Mr. 
Johnson's.  "  If  he  knows  it 's  a  bad  thing  to  be 
hungry  and  not  have  enough  to  eat,  he  ought  to  be 
glad  that  another  fellow,  who  is  not  idle,  is  not 
suffering  in  the  same  way." 

Every  one  was  startled.  The  audience  was  much 
impressed  with  the  grandeur,  the  knowledge,  and 
the  power  of  Mr.  Johnson.  His  brilliant  promises 
confirmed  the  impression  that  Eeform  had  at  length 
reached  the  New  Pits ;  and  Eeform,  if  it  were  good 
for  anything,  must  at  last  resolve  itself  into  spare 
money,  —  meaning  "  sport "  and  drink,  and  keeping 
away  from  work  for  several  days  in  the  week. 
These  "  brave  "  men  of  Sproxton  liked  Felix  as  one 
of  themselves,  only  much  more  knowing,  —  as  a 
working-man  who  had  seen  many  distant  parts,  but 
who  must  be  very  poor,  since  he  never  drank  more 
than  a  pint  or  so.  They  were  quite  inclined  to 
hear  what  he  had  got  to  say  on  another  occasion, 
but  they  were  rather  irritated  by  his  interruption  at 
the  present  moment.  Mr.  Johnson  was  annoyed, 
but  he  spoke  with  the  same  glib  quietness  as  before, 
though  with  an  expression  of  contempt :  — 

"  I  call  it  a  poor-spirited  thing  to  take  up  a  man's 
straightforward  words  and  twist  them.  What  I 
meant  to  say  was  plain  enough,  —  that  no  man  can 
be  saved  from  starving  by  looking  on  while  others 
eat.     I  think  that 's  common-sense,  eh,  sirs  ? " 

There  was  again  an  approving  "  Haw,  haw ! "  To 
hear  anything  said,  and  understand  it,  was  a  stimu- 
lus that  had  the  effect  of  wit.  Mr.  Chubb  cast  a 
suspicious  and  viperous  glance  at  Felix,  who  felt 
that  he  had  been  a  simpleton  for  his  pains. 

"  Well,  then,"  continued  Mr.  Johnson,  "  I  suppose 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  193 

1  may  go  on.  But  if  there  is  any  one  here  better 
able  to  inform  the  company  than  I  am,  I  give  way, 
I  give  way." 

"Sir,"  said  Mr.  Chubb,  magisterially,  "no  man 
shall  take  the  words  out  of  your  mouth  in  this 
house.  And,"  he  added,  looking  pointedly  at  Felix, 
"  company  that 's  got  no  more  orders  to  give,  and 
wants  to  turn  up  rusty  to  them  that  has,  had  better 
be  making  room  than  filling  it.  Love  an'  'armony  's 
the  word  on  our  Club's  flag,  an'  love  an'  'armony 's 
the  meaning  of  'The  Sugar  Loaf,  William  Chubb.' 
Folks  of  a  different  mind  had  better  seek  another 
house  of  call." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Felix,  laying  down  his  money 
and  taking  his  cap ;  "  I  'm  going."  He  saw  clearly 
enough  that  if  he  said  more,  there  would  be  a  dis- 
turbance which  could  have  no  desirable  end. 

When  the  door  had  closed  behind  him,  Mr. 
Johnson  said,  "  What  is  that  person's  name  ? " 

"  Does  anybody  know  it  ? "  said  Mr.  Chubb. 

A  few  noes  were  heard. 

"  I  've  heard  him  speak  like  a  downright 
Reformer,  else  I  should  have  looked  a  little 
sharper  after  him.  But  you  may  see  he 's  noth- 
ing partic'lar." 

"  It  looks  rather  bad  that  no  one  knows  his  name," 
said  Mr.  Johnson.  "He's  most  likely  a  Tory  in 
disguise,  —  a  Tory  spy.  You  must  be  careful,  sirs, 
of  men  who  come  to  you  and  say  they  're  Radicals, 
and  yet  do  nothing  for  you.  They  '11  stuff  you  with 
words,  —  no  lack  of  words,  —  but  words  are  wind. 
Now,  a  man  like  Transome  comes  forward  and  says 
to  the  working-men  of  this  country:  'Here  I  am, 
ready  to  serve  you  and  to  speak  for  you  in  Parlia- 
ment, and  to  get  the  laws  made  all  right  for  you ; 
vol.  1.  — 13 


194  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

and  in  the  mean  while,  if  there  's  any  of  you  who 
are  my  neighbours  who  want  a  day's  holiday,  or  a 
cup  to  drink  with  friends,  or  a  copy  of  the  King's 
likeness,  —  why,  I  'm  your  man.  I  'm  not  a  paper 
handbill,  —  all  words  and  no  substance,  —  nor  a 
man  with  land  and  nothing  else ;  I  've  got  bags  of 
gold  as  well  as  land.'  I  think  you  know  what  I 
mean  by  the  King's  likeness  ? " 

Here  Mr.  Johnson  took  a  half-crown  out  of  his 
pocket  and  held  the  head  towards  the  company. 

"  Well,  sirs,  there  are  some  men  who  like  to  keep 
this  pretty  picture  a  great  deal  too  much  to  them- 
selves. I  don't  know  whether  I  'm  right,  but  I 
think  I  've  heard  of  such  a  one  not  a  hundred  miles 
from  here.  I  think  his  name  was  Spratt,  and  he 
managed  some  company's  coal-pits." 

"  Haw,  haw !  Spratt,  —  Spratt 's  his  name,"  was 
rolled  forth  to  an  accompaniment  of  scraping  shoe- 
soles. 

"  A  screwing  fellow,  by  what  I  understand,  —  a 
domineering  fellow,  —  who  would  expect  men  to 
do  as  he  liked  without  paying  them  for  it.  I  think 
there's  not  an  honest  man  who  wouldn't  like  to 
disappoint  such  an  upstart." 

There  was  a  murmur  which  was  interpreted  by 
Mr.  Chubb  :  "  I  '11  answer  for  'em,  sir." 

"Now,  listen  to  me.  Here's  Garstin:  he's  one 
of  the  Company  you  work  under.  What 's  Garstin 
to  you  ?  Who  sees  him  ?  and  when  they  do  see  him 
they  see  a  thin  miserly  fellow  who  keeps  his  pockets 
buttoned.  He  calls  himself  a  Whig,  yet  he  '11  split 
votes  with  a  Tory,  —  he'll  drive  with  the  Debarrys. 
Now,  gentlemen,  if  I  said  I  'd  got  a  vote,  and  any- 
body asked  me  what  I  should  do  with  it,  I  should 
say,  '  I  '11  plump  for   Transome.'      You  've  got  no 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  195 

votes,  and  that 's  a  shame.  But  you  will  have  some 
day,  if  such  men  as  Transome  are  returned ;  and 
then  you  '11  be  on  a  level  with  the  first  gentleman 
in  the  land,  and  if  he  wants  to  sit  in  Parliament, 
he  must  take  off  his  hat  and  ask  your  leave.  But 
though  you  have  n't  got  a  vote  you  can  give  a  cheer 
for  the  right  man,  and  Transome 's  not  a  man  like 
Garstin ;  if  you  lost  a  day's  wages  by  giving  a 
cheer  for  Transome,  he  '11  make  you  amends.  That 's 
the  way  a  man  who  has  no  vote  can  yet  serve  him- 
self and  his  country ;  he  can  lift  up  his  hand  and 
shout,  '  Transome  forever  ! '  — '  Hurray  for  Tran- 
some ! '  Let  the  working-men,  —  let  colliers  and 
navvies  and  stone-cutters,  who  between  you  and  me 
have  a  good  deal  too  much  the  worst  of  it,  as  things 
are  now,  —  let  them  join  together  and  give  their 
hands  and  voices  for  the  right  man,  and  they'll 
make  the  great  people  shake  in  their  shoes  a  little ; 
and  when  you  shout  for  Transome,  remember  you 
shout  for  more  wages,  and  more  of  your  rights,  and 
you  shout  to  get  rid  of  rats  and  sprats  and  such 
small  animals,  who  are  the  tools  the  rich  make  use 
of  to  squeeze  the  blood  out  of  the  poor  man." 

"  I  wish  there  'd  be  a  row,  —  I  'd  pommel  him," 
said  Dredge,  who  was  generally  felt  to  be  speaking 
to  the  question. 

"  No,  no,  my  friend,  —  there  you  're  a  little  wrong. 
No  pommelling,  —  no  striking  first.  There  you 
have  the  law  and  the  constable  against  you.  A 
little  rolling  in  the  dust  and  knocking  hats  off,  a 
little  pelting  with  soft  things  that  '11  stick  and  not 
bruise,  —  all  that  does  n't  spoil  the  fun.  If  a  man 
is  to  speak  when  you  don't  like  to  hear  him,  it  is' 
but  fair  you  should  give  him  something  he  does  n't 
like  in  return.     And  the  same  if  he 's  got  a  vote  and 


i$6  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

does  n't  use  it  for  the  good  of  the  country  ;  I  see  no 
harm  in  splitting  his  coat  in  a  quiet  way.  A  man 
must  be  taught  what 's  right  if  he  does  n't  know  it 
But  no  kicks,  no  knocking  down,  no  pommelling." 

"It  'ud  be  good  fun,  though,  if  so-be,"  said  Old 
Sleek,  allowing  himself  an  imaginative  pleasure. 

"  Well,  well,  if  a  Spratt  wants  you  to  say  Garstin, 
it 's  some  pleasure  to  think  you  can  say  Transome. 
Now,  my  notion  is  this.  You  are  men  who  can  put 
two  and  two  together,  —  I  don't  know  a  more  solid 
lot  of  fellows  than  you  are  ;  and  what  I  say  is,  let 
the  honest  men  in  this  country  who  've  got  no  vote 
show  themselves  in  a  body  when  they  have  the 
chance.  Why,  sirs,  for  every  Tory  sneak  that 's  got 
a  vote,  there 's  fifty-five  fellows  who  must  stand  by 
and  be  expected  to  hold  their  tongues.  But  I  say, 
let  'em  hiss  the  sneaks,  let  'em  groan  at  the  sneaks, 
and  the  sneaks  will  be  ashamed  of  themselves.  The 
men  who  've  got  votes  don't  know  how  to  use  them. 
There 's  many  a  fool  with  a  vote,  who  is  not  sure  in 
his  mind  whether  he  shall  poll,  say  for  Debarry  or 
Garstin  or  Transome,  —  whether  he  '11  plump  or 
whether  he  '11  split ;  a  straw  will  turn  him.  Let 
him  know  your  mind  if  he  does  n't  know  his  own. 
What's  the  reason  Debarry  gets  returned  ?  Because 
people  are  frightened  at  the  Debarrys.  What 's  that 
to  you  ?  You  don't  care  for  the  Debarrys.  If  peo- 
ple are  frightened  at  the  Tories,  we  '11  turn  round 
and  frighten  them.  You  know  what  a  Tory  is,  — 
one  who  wants  to  drive  the  working-men  as  he  'd 
drive  cattle.  That 's  what  a  Tory  is ;  and  a  Whig 
is  no  better,  if  he  's  like  Garstin.  A  Whig  wants 
to  knock  the  Tory  down  and  get  the  whip  ;  that 's 
alL  But  Transome  's  neither  Whig  nor  Tory  ;  he  's 
the  working-man's  friend,  the   collier's  friend,  the 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  197 

friend  of  the  honest  navvy.  And  if  he  gets  into 
Parliament,  let  me  tell  you,  it  will  be  the  better  for 
you.  I  don't  say  it  will  be  the  better  for  over- 
lookers and  screws  and  rats  and  sprats  ;  but  it  will 
be  the  better  for  every  good  fellow  who  takes  his 
pot  at  the  Sugar  Loaf." 

Mr.  Johnson's  exertions  for  the  political  educa- 
tion of  the  Sproxton  men  did  not  stop  here ;  which 
was  the  more  disinterested  in  him  as  he  did  not 
expect  to  see  them  again,  and  could  only  set  on 
foot  an  organization  by  which  their  instruction 
could  be  continued  without  him.  In  this  he  was 
quite  successful.  A  man  known  among  the  "  but- 
ties "  as  Pack,  who  had  already  been  mentioned  by 
Mr.  Chubb,  presently  joined  the  party,  and  had  a 
private  audience  of  Mr.  Johnson,  that  he  might  be 
instituted  as  the  "  shepherd  "  of  this  new  flock. 

"  That 's  a  right-down  genelman,"  said  Pack,  as 
he  took  the  seat  vacated  by  the  orator,  who  had 
ridden  away. 

"  What 's  his  trade,  think  you  ? "  said  Gills,  the 
wiry  stone-cutter. 

"  Trade  ? "  said  Mr.  Chubb.  "  He  's  one  of  the 
top-sawyers  of  the  country.  He  works  with  his 
head,  you  may  see  that." 

"  Let 's  have  our  pipes,  then,"  said  Old  Sleek  ; 
"I'm  pretty  well  tired  o'  jaw." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Dredge.  "  It 's  wriggling  work, 
—  like  follering  a  stoat.  It  makes  a  man  dry.  I  'd 
as  lief  hear  preaching,  on'y  there 's  nought  to  be  got 
by  't.  I  should  n't  know  which  end  I  stood  on  if 
it  wasn't  for  the  tickets  and  the  treatin'." 


CHAPTER  XIL 

"  Oh,  sir,  't  was  that  mixture  of  spite  and  over-fed  merriment 
which  passes  for  humour  with  the  vulgar.  In  their  fun  they  have 
much  resemblance  to  a  turkey-cock.  It  has  a  cruel  beak,  and  a 
silly  iteration  of  ugly  sounds ;  it  spreads  its  tail  in  self-glorification, 
but  shows  you  the  wrong  side  of  that  ornament,  —  liking  admira- 
tion, but  knowing  not  what  is  admirable." 

This  Sunday  evening,  which  promised  to  be  so 
memorable  in  the  experience  of  the  Sproxton  min- 
ers, had  its  drama  also  for  those  unsatisfactory  ob- 
jects to  Mr.  Johnson's  moral  sense,  the  Debarrys. 
Certain  incidents  occurring  at  Treby  Manor  caused 
an  excitement  there  which  spread  from  the  dining- 
room  to  the  stables ;  but  no  one  underwent  such 
agitating  transitions  of  feeling  as  Mr.  Scales.  At 
six  o'clock  that  superior  butler  was  chuckling  in 
triumph  at  having  played  a  fine  and  original  prac- 
tical joke  on  his  rival  Mr.  Christian.  Some  two 
hours  after  that  time,  he  was  frightened,  sorry,  and 
even  meek ;  he  was  on  the  brink  of  a  humiliating 
confession ;  his  cheeks  were  almost  livid ;  his  hair 
was  flattened  for  want  of  due  attention  from  his 
fingers ;  and  the  fine  roll  of  his  whiskers,  which 
was  too  firm  to  give  way,  seemed  only  a  sad  remi- 
niscence of  past  splendour  and  felicity.  His  sorrow 
came  about  in  this  wise. 

After  service  on  that  Sunday  morning,  Mr.  Philip 
Debarry  had  left  the  rest  of  the  family  to  go  home. 
in  the  carriage,  and  had  remained  at  the  Rectory  to 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  199 

lunch  with  his  uncle  Augustus,  that  he  might  con- 
sult him  touching  some  letters  of  importance.  He 
had  returned  the  letters  to  his  pocket-book,  but  had 
not  returned  the  book  to  his  pocket,  and  he  finally- 
walked  away  leaving  the  enclosure  of  private  papers 
and  bank-notes  on  his  uncle's  escritoire.  After  his 
arrival  at  home  he  was  reminded  of  his  omission, 
and  immediately  despatched  Christian  with  a  note 
begging  his  uncle  to  seal  up  the  pocket-book  and 
send  it  by  the  bearer.  This  commission,  which  was 
given  between  three  and  four  o'clock,  happened  to 
be  very  unwelcome  to  the  courier.  The  fact  was 
that  Mr.  Christian,  who  had  been  remarkable 
through  life  for  that  power  of  adapting  himself  to 
circumstances  which  enables  a  man  to  fall  safely 
on  all-fours  in  the  most  hurried  expulsions  and 
escapes,  was  not  exempt  from  bodily  suffering,  —  a 
circumstance  to  which  there  is  no  known  way  of 
adapting  one's  self  so  as  to  be  perfectly  comfortable 
under  it,  or  to  push  it  off  on  to  other  people's 
shoulders.  He  did  what  he  could ;  he  took  doses 
of  opium  when  he  had  an  access  of  nervous  pains, 
and  he  consoled  himself  as  to  future  possibilities 
by  thinking  that  if  the  pains  ever  became  intolera- 
bly frequent  a  considerable  increase  in  the  dose 
might  put  an  end  to  them  altogether.  He  was 
neither  Cato  nor  Hamlet,  and  though  he  had  learned 
their  soliloquies  at  his  first  boarding-school,  he 
would  probably  have  increased  his  dose  without 
reciting  those  masterpieces.  Next  to  the  pain  it- 
self he  disliked  that  any  one  should  know  of  it; 
defective  health  diminished  a  man's  market  value ; 
he  did  not  like  to  be  the  object  of  the  sort  of  pity 
he  himself  gave  to  a  poor  devil  who  was  forced  to 
make  a  wry  face  or  "  give  in  "  altogether. 


200  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

He  had  felt  it  expedient  to  take  a  slight  dose 
this  afternoon,  and  still  he  was  not  altogether  re- 
lieved at  the  time  he  set  off  to  the  Kectory.  On 
returning  with  the  valuable  case  safely  deposited 
in  his  hind  pocket,  he  felt  increasing  bodily  uneasi- 
ness, and  took  another  dose.  Thinking  it  likely 
that  he  looked  rather  pitiable,  he  chose  not  to 
proceed  to  the  house  by  the  carriage-road.  The 
servants  often  walked  in  the  park  on  a  Sunday, 
and  he  wished  to  avoid  any  meeting.  He  would 
make  a  circuit,  get  into  the  house  privately,  and 
after  delivering  his  packet  to  Mr.  Debarry,  shut 
himself  up  till  the  ringing  of  the  half-hour  bell. 
But  when  he  reached  an  elbowed  seat  under  some 
sycamores,  he  felt  so  ill  at  ease  that  he  yielded  to 
the  temptation  of  throwing  himself  on  it  to  rest 
a  little.  He  looked  at  his  watch  ;  it  was  but  five  ; 
he  had  done  his  errand  quickly  hitherto,  and  Mr. 
Debarry  had  not  urged  haste.  But  in  less  than 
ten  minutes  he  was  in  a  sound  sleep.  Certain 
conditions  of  his  system  had  determined  a  stronger 
effect  than  usual  from  the  opium. 

As  he  had  expected,  there  were  servants  strolling 
in  the  park,  but  they  did  not  all  choose  the  most 
frequented  part.  Mr.  Scales,  in  pursuit  of  a  slight 
flirtation  with  the  younger  lady's-maid,  had  pre- 
ferred a  more  sequestered  walk  in  the  company  of 
that  agreeable  nymph.  And  it  happened  to  be  this 
pair,  of  all  others,  who  alighted  on  the  sleeping 
Christian,  —  a  sight  which  at  the  very  first  moment 
caused  Mr.  Scales  a  vague  pleasure  as  at  an  incident 
that  must  lead  to  something  clever  on  his  part.  To 
play  a  trick,  and  make  some  one  or  other  look  fool- 
ish, was  held  the  most  pointed  form  of  wit  through- 
out the  back  regions  of  the  Manor,  and  served  as  a 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  201 

constant  substitute  for  theatrical  entertainment; 
what  the  farce  wanted  in  costume  or  "  make-up " 
it  gained  in  the  reality  of  the  mortification  which 
excited  the  general  laughter.  And  lo  .'  here  was 
the  offensive,  the  exasperatingly  cool  and  superior 
Christian  caught  comparatively  helpless,  with  his 
head  hanging  on  his  shoulder,  and  one  coat-tail 
hanging  out  heavily  below  the  elbow  of  the  rustic 
seat.  It  was  this  coat-tail  which  served  as  a  sug- 
gestion to  Mr.  Scales's  genius.  Putting  his  finger 
up  in  warning  to  Mrs.  Cherry,  and  saying,  "  Hush, 
be  quiet !  I  see  a  fine  bit  of  fun,"  he  took  a 
knife  from  his  pocket,  stepped  behind  the  uncon- 
scious Christian,  and  quickly  cut  off  the  pendent 
coat-tail.  Scales  knew  nothing  of  the  errand  to  the 
Kectory ;  and  as  he  noticed  that  there  was  some- 
thing in  the  pocket,  thought  it  was  probably  a 
large  cigar-case.  So  much  the  better,  —  he  had  no 
time  to  pause.  He  threw  the  coat-tail  as  far  as  he 
could,  and  noticed  that  it  fell  among  the  elms 
under  which  they  had  been  walking.  Then,  beck- 
oning to  Mrs.  Cherry,  he  hurried  away  with  her 
towards  the  more  open  part  of  the  park,  not  daring 
to  explode  in  laughter  until  it  was  safe  from  the 
chance  of  waking  the  sleeper.  And  then  the  vision 
of  the  graceful,  well-appointed  Mr.  Christian,  who 
sneered  at  Scales  about  his  "get  up,"  having  to 
walk  back  to  the  house  with  only  one  tail  to  his 
coat,  was  a  source  of  so  much  enjoyment  to  the 
butler  that  the  fair  Cherry  began  to  be  quite  jeal- 
ous of  the  joke.  Still  she  admitted  that  it  really 
was  funny,  tittered  intermittently,  and  pledged  her- 
self to  secrecy,  Mr.  Scales  explained  to  her  that 
Christian  would  try  to  creep  in  unobserved,  but 
that   this   must  be  made  impossible ;  and  he   re- 


202  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

quested  her  to  imagine  the  figure  this  interloping 
fellow  would  cut  when  everybody  was  asking  what 
had  happened.  "  Hallo,  Christian !  where 's  your 
coat-tail  ? "  would  become  a  proverb  at  the  Manor, 
where  jokes  kept  remarkably  well  without  the  aid 
of  salt ;  and  Mr.  Christian's  comb  would  be  cut  so 
effectually  that  it  would  take  a  long  time  to  grow 
again.  Exit  Scales,  laughing,  and  presenting  a  fine 
example  of  dramatic  irony  to  any  one  in  the  secret 
of  Fate. 

When  Christian  awoke,  he  was  shocked  to  find 
himself  in  the  twilight.  He  started  up,  shook  him- 
self, missed  something,  and  soon  became  aware 
what  it  was  he  missed.  He  did  not  doubt  that  he 
had  been  robbed,  and  he  at  once  foresaw  that  the 
consequences  would  be  highly  unpleasant.  In  no 
way  could  the  cause  of  the  accident  be  so  repre- 
sented to  Mr.  Philip  Debarry  as  to  prevent  him 
from  viewing  his  hitherto  unimpeachable  factotum 
in  a  new  and  unfavourable  light.  And  though  Mr. 
Christian  did  not  regard  his  present  position  as 
brilliant,  he  did  not  see  his  way  to  anything  better. 
A  man  nearly  fifty  who  is  not  always  quite  well  is 
seldom  ardently  hopeful;  he  is  aware  that  this  is 
a  world  in  which  merit  is  often  overlooked.  With 
the  idea  of  robbery  in  full  possession  of  his  mind, 
to  peer  about  and  search  in  the  dimness,  even  if 
it  had  occurred  to  him,  would  have  seemed  a  pre- 
posterous waste  of  time  and  energy.  He  knew  it 
was  likely  that  Mr.  Debarry's  pocket-book  had  im- 
portant and  valuable  contents,  and  that  he  should 
deepen  his  offence  by  deferring  his  announcement 
of  the  unfortunate  fact.  He  hastened  back  to  the 
house,  relieved  by  the  obscurity  from  that  mortifica- 
tion of  his  vanity  on  which  the  butler  had  counted. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  203 

Indeed,  to  Scales  himself  the  affair  had  already  be- 
gun to  appear  less  thoroughly  jocose  than  he  had 
anticipated.  For  he  observed  that  Christian's  non- 
appearance before  dinner  had  caused  Mr.  Debarry 
some  consternation ;  and  he  had  gathered  that  the 
courier  had  been  sent  on  a  commission  to  the  Rec- 
tory. "  My  uncle  must  have  detained  him  for  some 
reason  or  other,"  he  heard  Mr.  Philip  say ;  "  but  it 
is  odd.  If  he  were  less  trusty  about  commissions, 
or  had  ever  seemed  to  drink  too  much,  I  should  be 
uneasy."  Altogether  the  affair  was  not  taking  the 
turn  Mr.  Scales  had  intended.  At  last,  when  din- 
ner had  been  removed,  and  the  butler's  chief  duties 
were  at  an  end,  it  was  understood  that  Christian 
had  entered  without  his  coat-tail,  looking  serious 
and  even  agitated ;  that  he  had  asked  leave  at  once 
to  speak  to  Mr.  Debarry;  and  that  he  was  even 
then  in  parley  with  the  gentlemen  in  the  dining- 
room.  Scales  was  in  alarm ;  it  must  have  been 
some  property  of  Mr.  Debarry's  that  had  weighted 
the  pocket.  He  took  a  lantern,  got  a  groom  to  ac- 
company him  with  another  lantern,  and  with  the 
utmost  practicable  speed  reached  the  fatal  spot  in 
the  park.  He  searched  under  the  elms,  —  he  was 
certain  that  the  pocket  had  fallen  there,  —  and  he 
found  the  pocket;  but  he  found  it  empty,  and  in 
spite  of  further  search,  did  not  find  the  contents, 
though  he  had  at  first  consoled  himself  with  think- 
ing that  they  had  fallen  out,  and  would  be  lying 
not  far  off.  He  returned  with  the  lanterns  and  the 
coat-tail,  and  a  most  uncomfortable  consciousness 
in  that  great  seat  of  a  butler's  emotion,  the  stomach. 
He  had  no  sooner  re-entered  than  he  was  met  by 
Mrs.  Cherry,  pale  and  anxious,  who  drew  him  aside 
to  say  that  if  he  did  n't  tell  everything  she  would ; 


204  TELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

that  the  constables  were  to  be  sent  for ;  that  there 
had  been  no  end  of  bank-notes  and  letters  and 
things  in  Mr.  Debarry's  pocket-book,  which  Chris- 
tian was  carrying  in  that  very  pocket  Scales  had 
cut  off ;  that  the  Rector  was  sent  for,  the  constable 
was  coming,  and  they  should  all  be  hanged.  Mr. 
Scales's  own  intellect  was  anything  but  clear  as  to 
the  possible  issues.  Crestfallen,  and  with  the  coat- 
tail  in  his  hands  as  an  attestation  that  he  was  inno- 
cent of  anything  more  than  a  joke,  he  went  and 
made  his  confession.'  His  story  relieved  Christian 
a  little,  but  did  not  relieve  Mr.  Debarry,  who  was 
more  annoyed  at  the  loss  of  the  letters,  and  the 
chance  of  their  getting  into  hands  that  might  make 
use  of  them,  than  at  the  loss  of  the  bank-notes. 
Nothing  could  be  done  for  the  present,  but  that  the 
Rector,  who  was  a  magistrate,  should  instruct  the 
constables,  and  that  the  spot  in  the  park  indicated 
by  Scales  should  again  be  carefully  searched.  This 
was  done,  but  in  vain ;  and  many  of  the  family  at 
the  Manor  had  disturbed  sleep  that  night. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Give  sorrow  leave  awhile  to  tutor  me 
To  this  submission. 

Richard  II. 

Meanwhile  Felix  Holt  had  been  making  his  way 
back  from  Sproxton  to  Treby  in  some  irritation  and 
bitterness  of  spirit.  For  a  little  while  he  walked 
slowly  along  the  direct  road,  hoping  that  Mr.  John- 
son would  overtake  him,  in  which  case  he  would 
have  the  pleasure  of  quarrelling  with  him,  and  tell- 
ing him  what  he  thought  of  his  intentions  in  com- 
ing to  cant  at  the  Sugar  Loaf.  But  he  presently 
checked  himself  in  this  folly,  and  turned  off  again 
towards  the  canal,  that  he  might  avoid  the  tempta- 
tion of  getting  into  a  passion  to  no  purpose. 

"  Where 's  the  good,"  he  thought,  "  of  pulling  at 
such  a  tangled  skein  as  this  electioneering  trickery  ? 
As  long  as  three  fourths  of  the  men  in  this  country 
see  nothing  in  an  election  but  self-interest,  and 
nothing  in  self-interest  but  some  form  of  greed,  one 
might  as  well  try  to  purify  the  proceedings  of  the 
fishes,  and  say  to  a  hungry  codfish,  — '  My  good 
friend,  abstain  ;  don't  goggle  your  eyes  so,  or  show 
such  a  stupid  gluttonous  mouth,  or  think  the  little 
fishes  are  worth  nothing  except  in  relation  to  your 
own  inside.'  He  'd  be  open  to  no  argument  short  of 
crimping  him.  I  should  get  into  a  rage  with  this 
fellow,  and  perhaps  end  by  thrashing  him.  There 's 
some  reason  in  me  as  long  as  I  keep  my  temper,  but 


206  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

my  rash  humour  is  drunkenness  without  wine.  I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  he  upsets  all  my  plans  with 
these  colliers.  Of  course  he  's  going  to  treat  them 
for  the  sake  of  getting  up  a  posse  at  the  nomination 
and  speechifyings.  They  '11  drink  double,  and  never 
come  near  me  on  a  Saturday  evening.  I  don't  know 
what  sort  of  man  Transome  really  is.  It 's  no  use 
my  speaking  to  anybody  else,  but  if  I  could  get  at 
him,  he  might  put  a  veto  on  this  thing.  Though, 
when  once  the  men  have  been  promised  and  set 
a-going,  the  mischief  is  likely  to  be  past  mending. 
Hang  the  Liberal  codfish  !  I  should  n't  have  minded 
so  much  if  he  'd  been  a  Tory  !  " 

Felix  went  along  in  the  twilight,  struggling 
in  this  way  with  the  intricacies  of  life,  which 
would  certainly  be  greatly  simplified  if  corrupt 
practices  were  the  invariable  mark  of  wrong  opin- 
ions. When  he  had  crossed  the  common  and  had 
entered  the  park,  the  overshadowing  trees  deepened 
the  gray  gloom  of  the  evening  ;  it  was  useless  to  try 
and  keep  the  blind  path,  and  he  could  only  be  care- 
ful that  his  steps  should  be  bent  in  the  direction  of 
the  park-gate.  He  was  striding  along  rapidly  now, 
whistling  "  Bannockburn  "  in  a  subdued  way  as  an 
accompaniment  to  his  inward  discussion,  when  some- 
thing smooth  and  soft  on  which  his  foot  alighted 
arrested  him  with  an  unpleasant  startling  sensation, 
and  made  him  stoop  to  examine  the  object  he  was 
treading  on.  He  found  it  to  be  a  large  leather 
pocket-book  swelled  by  its  contents,  and  fastened 
with  a  sealed  ribbon  as  well  as  a  clasp.  In  stooping 
he  saw  about  a  yard  off  something  whitish  and  square 
lying  on  the  dark  grass.  This  was  an  ornamental 
note-book  of  pale  leather  stamped  with  gold.  Ap- 
parently it  had  burst  open  in  falling,  and  out  of  the 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  207 

pocket,  formed  by  the  cover,  there  protruded  a  small 
gold  chain  about  four  inches  long,  with  various  seals 
and  other  trifles  attached  to  it  by  a  ring  at  the  end. 
Felix  thrust  the  chain  back,  and  finding  that  the 
clasp  of  the  note-book  was  broken,  he  closed  it  and 
thrust  it  into  his  side  pocket,  walking  along  under 
some  annoyance  that  fortune  had  made  him  the 
finder  of  articles  belonging  most  probably  to  one  of 
the  family  at  Treby  Manor.  He  was  much  too 
proud  a  man  to  like  any  contact  with  the  aristocracy, 
and  he  could  still  less  endure  coming  within  speech 
of  their  servants.  Some  plan  must  be  devised  by 
which  he  could  avoid  carrying  these  things  up  to 
the  Manor  himself :  he  thought  at  first  of  leaving 
them  at  the  lodge,  but  he  had  a  scruple  against  plac- 
ing property,  of  which  the  ownership  was  after  all 
uncertain,  in  the  hands  of  persons  unknown  to  him. 
It  was  possible  that  the  large  pocket-book  contained 
papers  of  high  importance,  and  that  it  did  not  be- 
long to  any  of  the  Debarry  family.  He  resolved  at 
last  to  carry  his  findings  to  Mr.  Lyon,  who  would 
perhaps  be  good-natured  enough  to  save  him  from 
the  necessary  transactions  with  the  people  at  the 
Manor  by  undertaking  those  transactions  himself. 
With  this  determination  he  walked  straight  to 
Malthouse  Yard,  and  waited  outside  the  chapel  un- 
til the  congregation  was  dispersing,  when  he  passed 
along  the  aisle  to  the  vestry  in  order  to  speak  to 
the  minister  in  private. 

But  Mr.  Lyon  was  not  alone  when  Felix  entered. 
Mr.  Nuttwood,  the  grocer,  who  was  one  of  the  dea- 
cons, was  complaining  to  him  about  the  obstinate 
demeanour  of  the  singers,  who  had  declined  to  change 
the  tunes  in  accordance  with  a  change  in  the  selec- 
tion of  hymns,  and  had  stretched  short  metre  into 


2o8  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

long  out  of  pure  wilfulness  and  defiance,  irrever- 
ently adapting  the  most  sacred  monosyllables  to  a 
multitude  of  wandering  quavers,  arranged,  it  was  to 
be  feared,  by  some  musician  who  was  inspired  by 
conceit  rather  than  by  the  true  spirit  of  psalmody. 

"  Come  in,  my  friend,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  smiling  at 
Felix,  and  then  continuing  in  a  faint  voice,  while  he 
wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  brow  and  bald 
crown :  "  Brother  Nuttwood,  we  must  be  content  to 
carry  a  thorn  in  our  sides  while  the  necessities  of 
our  imperfect  state  demand  that  there  should  be  a 
body  set  apart  and  called  a  choir,  whose  special  office 
it  is  to  lead  the  singing,  not  because  they  are  more 
disposed  to  the  devout  uplifting  of  praise,  but  be- 
cause they  are  .endowed  with  better  vocal  organs, 
and  have  attained  more  of  the  musician's  art.  For 
all  office,  unless  it  be  accompanied  by  peculiar 
grace,  becomes  as  it  were  a  diseased  organ,  seeking 
to  make  itself  too  much  of  a  centre.  Singers, 
specially  so  called,  are,  it  must  be  confessed,  an 
anomaly  among  us  who  seek  to  reduce  the  Church 
to  its  primitive  simplicity,  and  to  cast  away  all  that 
may  obstruct  the  direct  communion  of  spirit  with 
spirit." 

"  They  are  so  headstrong,"  said  Mr.  Nuttwood,  in 
a  tone  of  sad  perplexity, "  that  if  we  dealt  not  warily 
with  them,  they  might  end  in  dividing  the  church, 
even  now  that  we  have  had  the  chapel  enlarged. 
Brother  Kemp  would  side  with  them,  and  draw  the 
half  part  of  the  members  after  him.  I  cannot  but 
think  it  a  snare  when  a  professing  Christian  has  a 
bass  voice  like  Brother  Kemp's.  It  makes  him  de- 
sire to  be  heard  of  men ;  but  the  weaker  song  of  the 
humble  may  have  more  power  in  the  ear  of  God." 

"Do  you  think  it  any  better  vanity  to  flatter 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  209 

yourself  that  God  likes  to  hear  you,  though  men 
don't?"  said  Felix,  with  unwarrantable  bluntness. 

The  civil  grocer  was  prepared  to  be  scandalized 
by  anything  that  came  from  Felix.  In  common 
with  many  hearers  in  Malthouse  Yard,  he  already 
felt  an  objection  to  a  young  man  who  was  notorious 
for  having  interfered  in  a  question  of  wholesale  and 
retail,  which  should  have  been  left  to  Providence. 
Old  Mr.  Holt,  being  a  church  member,  had  probably 
had  "  leadings "  which  were  more  to  be  relied  on 
than  his  son's  boasted  knowledge.  In  any  case  a 
little  visceral  disturbance  and  inward  chastisement 
to  the  consumers  of  questionable  medicines  would 
tend  less  to  obscure  the  divine  glory  than  a  show  of 
punctilious  morality  in  one  who  was  not  a  "  profes- 
sor." Besides,  how  was  it  to  be  known  that  the 
medicines  would  not  be  blessed,  if  taken  with  due 
trust  in  a  higher  influence  ?  A  Christian  must  con- 
sider not  the  medicines  alone  in  their  relation  to  our 
frail  bodies  (which  are  dust),  but  the  medicines  with 
Omnipotence  behind  them.  Hence  a  pious  vendor 
will  look  for  "leadings,"  and  he  is  likely  to  find 
them  in  the  cessation  of  demand  and  the  dispropor- 
tion of  expenses  and  returns.  The  grocer  was  thus 
on  his  guard  against  the  presumptuous  disputant. 

*  Mr.  Lyon  may  understand  you,  sir,"  he  replied. 
"  He  seems  to  be  fond  of  your  conversation.  But 
you  have  too  much  of  the  pride  of  human  learning 
for  me.     I  follow  no  new  lights." 

"  Then  follow  an  old  one,"  said  Felix,  mischiev- 
ously disposed  towards  a  sleek  tradesman.  "  Follow 
the  light  of  the  old-fashioned  Presbyterians  that  I  've 
heard  sing  at  Glasgow.  The  preacher  gives  out  the 
psalm,  and  then  everybody  sings  a  different  tune, 
as  it  happens  to  turn  up  in  their  throats.      It's  a 

VOL.  1.  — 14 


2io  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

domineering  thing  to  set  a  tune  and  expect  every- 
body else  to  follow  it.  It's  a  denial  of  private 
judgment." 

"Hush,  hush,  my  young  friend,"  said  Mr.  Lyon, 
hurt   by   this  levity,  which  glanced  at  himself  as 
well  as  at  the  deacon.     "  Play  not  with  paradoxes. 
That  caustic  which  you  handle  in  order  to  scorch 
others,  may  happen  to  sear  your  own  fingers  and 
make  them  dead  to   the  quality  of  things.      'T  is 
difficult  enough  to  see  our  way  and  keep  our  torch 
steady  in  this  dim  labyrinth  ;  to  whirl   the  torch 
and  dazzle  the  eyes  of  our  fellow-seekers  is  a  poor 
daring,  and  may  end  in  total  darkness.   You  yourself 
are  a  lover  of  freedom,  and  a  bold  rebel  against  usurp- 
ing authority.     But   the  right  to  rebellion   is  the 
right  to  seek  a  higher  rule,  and  not  to  wander  in 
mere  lawlessness.     Wherefore,  I  beseecli  you,  seem 
not  to  say  that  liberty  is  license.    And  I  apprehend, 
—  though  I  am  not  endowed  with  an  ear  to  seize 
those   earthly   harmonies,   which    to    some    devout 
souls  have  seemed  as  it  were  the  broken  echoes  of 
the  heavenly  choir,  —  I  apprehend  that  there  is  a 
law  in  music,  disobedience  whereunto  would  bring 
us  in  our  singing  to  the  level  of  shrieking  maniacs 
or  howling   beasts ;    so   that   herein-  we    are   well 
instructed  how  true  liberty  can  be  nought  but  the 
transfer  of  obedience  from  the  will  of  one  or  of  a 
few  men  to  that  will  which  is  the  norm  or  rule  for 
all  men.     And  though  the  transfer  may  sometimes 
be  but  an  erroneous  direction  of  search,  yet  is  the 
search  good  and  necessary  to  the  ultimate  finding. 
And  even  as  in  music,  where  all  obey  and  concur  to 
one  end,  so  that  each  has  the  joy  of  contributing  to 
a  whole  whereby  he  is  ravished  and  lifted  up  into 
the  courts  of  heaven,  so  will  it  be  in  that  crowning 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  211 

time  of  the  millennial  reign,  when  our  daily  prayer 
will  be  fulfilled,  and  one  law  shall  be  written  on  all 
hearts,  and  be  the  very  structure  of  all  thought,  and 
be  the  principle  of  all  action." 

Tired,  even  exhausted,  as  the  minister  had  been 
when  Felix  Holt  entered,  the  gathering  excitement 
of  speech  gave  more  and  more  energy  to  his  voice 
and  manner  ;  he  walked  away  from  the  vestry  table, 
he  paused  and  came  back  to  it;  he  walked  away 
again,  then  came  back,  and  ended  with  his  deepest- 
toned  largo,  keeping  his  hands  clasped  behind  him, 
while  his  brown  eyes  were  bright  with  the  lasting 
youthfulness  of  enthusiastic  thought  and  love.  But 
to  any  one  who  had  no  share  in  the  energies  that 
were  thrilling  his  little  body,  he  would  have  looked 
queer  enough.  No  sooner  had  he  finished  his  eager 
speech  than  he  held  out  his  hand  to  the  deacon, 
and  said,  in  his  former  faint  tone  of  fatigue,  — 

"God  be  with  you,  brother.  We  shall  meet 
to-morrow,  and  we  will  see  what  can  be  done  to 
subdue  these  refractory  spirits." 

When  the  deacon  was  gone,  Felix  said,  "  Forgive 
me,  Mr.  Lyon  ;  I  was  wrong,  and  you  are  right." 

"  Yes,  yes,  my  friend  ;  you  have  that  mark  of 
grace  within  you,  that  you  are  ready  to  acknowl- 
edge the  justice  of  a  rebuke.  Sit  down  ;  you  have 
something  to  say,  —  some  packet  there." 

They  sat  down  at  a  corner  of  the  small  table,  and 
Felix  drew  the  note-book  from  his  pocket  to  lay  it 
down  with  the  pocket-book,  saying, — 

"  I  've  had  the  ill-luck  to  be  the  finder  of  these 
things  in  the  Debarrys'  Park.  Most  likely  they 
belong  to  one  of  the  family  at  the  Manor,  or  to 
some  grandee  who  is  staying  there.  I  hate  having 
anything  to  do  with  such  people.     They  '11  think  me 


212  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

a  poor  rascal,  and  offer  me  money.  You  are  a 
known  man,  and  I  thought  you  would  be  kind 
enough  to  relieve  me  by  taking  charge  of  these 
things,  and  writing  to  Debarry,  not  mentioning  me, 
and  asking  him  to  send  some  one  for  them.  I 
found  them  on  the  grass  in  the  park  this  evening 
about  half-past  seven,  in  the  corner  we  cross  going 
to  Sproxton." 

"  Stay,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  "  this  little  book  is  open  ; 
we  may  venture  to  look  in  it  for  some  sign  of  owner- 
ship. There  be  others  who  possess  property,  and 
might  be  crossing  that  end  of  the  park,  besides  the 
Debarrys." 

As  he  lifted  the  note-book  close  to  his  eyes,  the 
chain  again  slipped  out.  He  arrested  it  and  held  it 
in  his  hand,  while  he  examined  some  writing,  which 
appeared  to  be  a  name  on  the  inner  leather.  He 
looked  long,  as  if  he  were  trying  to  decipher  some- 
thing that  was  partly  rubbed  out ;  and  his  hands 
began  to  tremble  noticeably.  He  made  a  movement 
in  an  agitated  manner,  as  if  he  were  going  to 
examine  the  chain  and  seals,  which  he  held  in  his 
hand.  But  he  checked  himself,  closed  his  hand 
again,  and  rested  it  on  the  table,  while  with  the 
other  hand  he  pressed  the  sides  of  the  note-book 
together. 

Felix  observed  his  agitation,  and  was  much  sur- 
prised ;  but  with  a  delicacy  of  which  he  was  capa- 
ble under  all  his  abruptness,  he  said,  "  You  are 
overcome  with  fatigue,  sir.  I  was  thoughtless  to 
tease  you  with  these  matters  at  the  end  of  Sunday, 
when  you  have  been  preaching  three  sermons." 

Mr.  Lyon  did  not  speak  for  a  few  moments,  but 
at  last  he  said,  — 

"  It  is  true.    I  am  overcome.    It  was  a  name  I 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  213 

saw,  —  a  name  that  called  up  a  past  sorrow.  Fear 
not ;  I  will  do  what  is  needful  with  these  things. 
You  may  trust  them  to  me." 

With  trembling  fingers  he  replaced  the  chain, 
and  tied  both  the  large  pocket-book  and  the  note- 
book in  his  handkerchief.  He  was  evidently  mak- 
ing a  great  effort  over  himself.  But  when  he  had 
gathered  the  knot  of  the  handkerchief  in  his  hand, 
he  said,  — 

"  Give  me  your  arm  to  the  door,  my  friend.  I 
feel  ill.     Doubtless  I  am  over-wearied." 

The  door  was  already  open,  and  Lyddy  was 
watching  for  her  master's  return.  Felix  therefore 
said  good-night  and  passed  on,  sure  that  this  was 
what  Mr.  Lyon  would  prefer.  The  minister's  sup- 
per of  warm  porridge  was  ready  by  the  kitchen  fire, 
where  he  always  took  it  on  a  Sunday  evening,  and 
afterwards  smoked  his  weekly  pipe  up  the  broad 
chimney,  —  the  one  great  relaxation  he  allowed 
himself.  Smoking,  he  considered,  was  a  recreation 
of  the  travailed  spirit,  which,  if  indulged  in,  might 
endear  this  world  to  us  by  the  ignoble  bonds  of 
mere  sensuous  ease.  Daily  smoking  might  be  law- 
ful, but  it  was  not  expedient.  And  in  this  Esther 
concurred  with  a  doctrinal  eagerness  that  was  un- 
usual in  her.  It  was  her  habit  to  go  to  her  own 
room,  professedly  to  bed,  very  early  on  Sundays,  — 
immediately  on  her  return  from  chapel,  —  that  she 
might  avoid  her  father's  pipe.  But  this  evening 
she  had  remained  at  home,  under  a  true  plea  of 
not  feeling  well;  and  when  she  heard  him  enter, 
she  ran  out  of  the  parlour  to  meet  him. 

"  Father,  you  are  ill,"  she  said,  as  he  tottered  to 
the  wicker-bottomed  arm-chair,  while  Lyddy  stood 
by,  shaking  her  head. 


214  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  No,  my  dear,"  he  answered  feebly,  as  she  took 
off  his  hat  and  looked  in  his  face  inquiringly ;  "  I 
am  weary." 

"  Let  me  lay  these  things  down  for  you,"  said 
Esther,  touching  the  bundle  in  the  handkerchief. 

"  No ;  they  are  matters  which  I  have  to  examine," 
he  said,  laying  them  on  the  table,  and  putting  his 
arm  across  them.     "  Go  you  to  bed,  Lyddy." 

"  Not  me,  sir.  If  ever  a  man  looked  as  if  he  was 
struck  with  death,  it 's  you,  this  very  night  as  here  is." 

"  Nonsense,  Lyddy  !  "  said  Esther,  angrily.  "  Go 
to  bed  when  my  father  desires  it.  I  will  stay  with 
him." 

Lyddy  was  electrified  by  surprise  at  this  new 
behaviour  of  Miss  Esther's.  She  took  her  candle 
silently  and  went. 

"  Go  you  too,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  tenderly, 
giving  his  hand  to  Esther,  when  Lyddy  was  gone. 
"  It  is  your  wont  to  go  early.     Why  are  you  up  ? " 

"  Let  me  lift  your  porridge  from  before  the  fire, 
and  stay  with  you,  father.  You  think  I'm  so 
naughty  that  I  don't  like  doing  anything  for  you," 
said  Esther,  smiling  rather  sadly  at  him. 

"  Child,  what  has  happened  ?  You  have  become 
the  image  of  your  mother  to-night,"  said  the  min- 
ister, in  a  loud  whisper.  The  tears  came  and  re- 
lieved him ;  while  Esther,  who  had  stooped  to  lift 
the  porridge  from  the  fender,  paused  on  one  knee 
and  looked  up  at  him. 

"  She  was  very  good  to  you  ? "  asked  Esther, 
softly. 

"Yes,  dear.  She  did  not  reject  my  affection. 
She  thought  not  scorn  of  my  love.  She  would  have 
forgiven  me,  if  I  had  erred  against  her,  from  very 
tenderness.     Could  you  forgive  me,  child  ?  " 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  215 

"  Father,  I  have  not  been  good  to  you  ;  but  I  will 
be,  I  will  be,"  said  Esther,  laying  her  head  on  his 
knee. 

He  kissed  her  head.  "Go  to  bed,  my  dear;  I 
would  be  alone." 

When  Esther  was  lying  down  that  night,  she 
felt  as  if  the  little  incidents  between  herself  and 
her  father  on  this  Sunday  had  made  it  an  epoch. 
Very  slight  words  and  deeds  may  have  a  sacramen- 
tal efficacy,  if  we  can  cast  our  self-love  behind  us  in 
order  to  say  or  do  them.  And  it  has  been  well 
believed  through  many  ages  that  the  beginning  of 
compunction  is  the  beginning  of  a  new  life  ;  that 
the  mind  which  sees  itself  blameless  may  be  called 
dead  in  trespasses,  —  in  trespasses  on  the  love  of 
others,  in  trespasses  on  their  weakness,  in  trespasses 
on  all  those  great  claims  which  are  the  image  of 
our  own  need. 

But  Esther  persisted  in  assuring  herself  that  she 
was  not  bending  to  any  criticism  from  Felix.  She 
was  full  of  resentment  against  his  rudeness,  and  yet 
more  against  his  too  harsh  conception  of  her  char- 
acter. She  was  determined  to  keep  as  much  at  a 
distance  from  him  as  possible. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

This  man  's  metallic  ;  at  a  sudden  blow 
His  soul  rings  hard.    I  cannot  lay  my  palm, 
Trembling  with  life,  upon  that  jointed  brass. 
I  shudder  at  the  cold,  unansweriug  touch ; 
But  if  it  press  me  in  response,  I  'm  bruised. 

The  next  morning,  when  the  Debarrys,  including 
the  Rector,  who  had  ridden  over  to  the  Manor  early, 
were  still  seated  at  breakfast,  Christian  came  in 
with  a  letter,  saying  that  it  had  been  brought  by  a 
man  employed  at  the  chapel  in  Malthouse  Yard, 
who  had  been  ordered  by  the  minister  to  use  all 
speed  and  care  in  the  delivery. 

The  letter  was  addressed  to  Sir  Maximus. 

"  Stay,  Christian,  it  may  possibly  refer  to  the  lost 
pocket-book,"  said  Philip  Debarry,  who  was  begin- 
ning to  feel  rather  sorry  for  his  factotum,  as  a  re- 
action from  previous  suspicions  and  indignation. 

Sir  Maximus  opened  the  letter  and  felt  for  his 
glasses,  but  then  said,  "  Here,  you  read  it,  Phil ;  the 
man  writes  a  haud  like  small  print." 

Philip  cast  his  eyes  over  it,  and  then  read  aloud 
in  a  tone  of  satisfaction :  — 

Sib,  — I  send  this  letter  to  apprise  you  that  I  have 
now  in  my  possession  certain  articles  which  last 
evening,  at  about  half-past  seven  o'clock,  were  found 
lying  on  the  grass  at  the  western  extremity  of  your 
park.  The  articles  are,  1°,  a  well-filled  pocket-hook, 
of  brown   leather,  fastened  wdth  a  black   ribbon  and 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  217 

with  a  seal  of  red  wax ;  2°,  a  small  note-book,  covered 
with  gilded  vellum,  whereof  the  clasp  was  burst,  and 
from  out  whereof  had  partly  escaped  a  small  gold  chain, 
with  seals  and  a  locket  attached,  the  locket  bearing  on 
the  back  a  device,  and  round  the  face  a  female  name. 

Wherefore  I  request  that  you  will  further  my  effort 
to  place  these  articles  in  the  right  hands,  by  ascertain- 
ing whether  any  person  within  your  walls  claims  them  as 
his  property,  and  by  sending  that  person  to  me  (if  such 
be  found) ;  for  I  will  on  no  account  let  them  pass  from 
my  care  save  into  that  of  one  who,  declaring  himself  to 
be  the  owner,  can  state  to  me  what  is  the  impression 
on  the  seal,  and  what  the  device  and  name  upon  the 
locket. 

I  am,  Sir,  yours  to  command  in  all  right  dealing, 

Rufus  Lyon. 
Malthousb  Yard,  Oct.  3,  1832. 

"  Well  done,  old  Lyon,"  said  the  Rector ;  "  I 
didn't  think  that  any  composition  of  his  would 
ever  give  me  so  much  pleasure." 

"  What  an  old  fox  it  is ! "  said  Sir  Maximus. 
"  Why  could  n't  he  send  the  things  to  me  at  once 
along  with  the  letter  ? " 

"No,  no,  Max;  he  uses  a  justifiable  caution," 
said  the  Rector,  a  refined  and  rather  severe  like- 
ness of  his  brother,  with  a  ring  of  fearlessness  and 
decision  in  his  voice  which  startled  all  flaccid  men 
and  unruly  boys.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do, 
Phil?"  he  added,  seeing  his  nephew  rise. 

"To  write,  of  course.  Those  other  matters  are 
yours,  I  suppose  ? "  said  Mr.  Debarry,  looking  at 
Christian. 

■  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  shall  send  you  with  a  letter  to  the  preacher. 
You  can  describe  your  own  property.  And  the  seal, 
uncle,  —  was  it  your  coat-of-arms  ? " 


2i8  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  No,  it  was  this  head  of  Achilles.  Here,  I  can 
take  it  off  the  ring,  and  you  can  carry  it,  Christian. 
But  don't  lose  that,  for  I've  had  it  ever  since 
eighteen  hundred.  I  should  like  to  send  my  com- 
pliments with  it,"  the  Eector  went  on,  looking  at 
his  brother,  "and  beg  that  since  he  has  so  much 
wise  caution  at  command,  he  would  exercise  a  little 
in  more  public  matters,  instead  of  making  himself  a 
firebrand  in  my  parish,  and  teaching  hucksters  and 
tape-weavers  that  it's  their  business  to  dictate  to 
statesmen." 

"How  did  Dissenters  and  Methodists  and  Qua- 
kers and  people  of  that  sort  first  come  up,  uncle  ? " 
said  Miss  Selina,  a  radiant  girl  of  twenty,  who  had 
given  much  time  to  the  harp. 

"  Dear  me,  Selina,"  said  her  elder  sister,  Harriet, 
whose  forte  was  general  knowledge,  "  don't  you 
remember  '  Woodstock '  ?  They  were  in  Cromwell's 
time." 

"  Oh  !  Holdenough,  and  those  people  ?  Yes ;  but 
they  preached  in  the  churches  ;  they  had  no  chapels. 
Tell  me,  Uncle  Gus  ;  I  like  to  be  wise,"  said  Selina, 
looking  up  at  the  face  which  was  smiling  down  on 
her  with  a  sort  of  severe  benignity.  "  Phil  says  I  'm 
an  ignorant  puss." 

"  The  seeds  of  Nonconformity  were  sown  at  the 
Reformation,  my  dear,  when  some  obstinate  men 
made  scruples  about  surplices  and  the  place  of  the 
communion-table,  and  other  trifles  of  that  sort.  But 
the  Quakers  came  up  about  Cromwell's  time,  and 
the  Methodists  only  in  the  last  century.  The  first 
Methodists  were  regular  clergymen,  the  more 's  the 

pity." 

"  But  all  those  wrong  things,  —  why  did  n't  gov- 
ernment put  them  down  ?  " 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  219 

"  Ah,  to  be  sure ! "  feU  in  Sir  Maximus,  in  a  cordial 
tone  of  corroboration. 

"Because  error  is  often  strong,  and  government 
is  often  weak,  my  dear.  Well,  Phil,  have  you 
finished  your  letter  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  will  read  it  to  you,"  said  Philip,  turning 
and  leaning  over  the  back  of  his  chair  with  the 
letter  in  his  hand. 

There  is  a  portrait  of  Mr.  Philip  Debarry  still  to 
be  seen  at  Treby  Manor,  and  a  very  fine  bust  of 
him  at  Eome,  where  he  died  fifteen  years  later,  a 
convert  to  Catholicism.  His  face  would  have  been 
plain  but  for  the  exquisite  setting  of  his  hazel  eyes, 
which  fascinated  even  the  dogs  of  the  household. 
The  other  features,  though  slight  and  irregular, 
were  redeemed  from  triviality  by  the  stamp  of 
gravity  and  intellectual  preoccupation  in  his  face 
and  bearing.  As  he  read  aloud,  his  voice  was 
what  his  uncle's  might  have  been  if  it  had  been 
modulated  by  delicate  health  and  a  visitation  of 
self-doubt. 

Sir,  —  In  reply  to  the  letter  with  which  you  have 
favoured  me  this  morning,  I  beg  to  state  that  the  articles 
you  describe  were  lost  from  the  pocket  of  my  servant, 
who  is  the  bearer  of  this  letter  to  you,  and  is  the 
claimant  of  the  vellum  note-book  and  the  gold  chain. 
The  large  leathern  pocket-book  is  my  own  property, 
and  the  impression  on  the  wax,  a  helmeted  head  of 
Achilles,  was  made  by  my  uncle,  the  Rev.  Augustus 
Debarry,  who  allows  me  to  forward  his  seal  to  you  in 
proof  that  I  am  not  making  a  mistaken  claim. 

I  feel  myself  under  deep  obligation  to  you,  sir,  for 
the  care  and  trouble  you  have  taken  in  order  to  restore 
to  its  right  owner  a  piece  of  property  which  happens  to 
be  of  particular  importance  to  me.     And  I  shall  con- 


22o  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

aider  myself  doubly  fortunate  if  at  any  time  you  can 
point  out  to  me  some  method  by  which  I  may  procure 
you  as  lively  a  satisfaction  as  I  am  now  feeling,  in 
that  full  and  speedy  relief  from  anxiety  which  I  owe 
to  your  considerate  conduct. 

I  remain,  Sir,  your  obliged  and  faithful  servant, 

Philip  Debarry. 

"  You  know  best,  Phil,  of  course,"  said  Sir  Maxi- 
mus,  pushing  his  plate  from  him  by  way  of  in- 
terjection. "But  it  seems  to  me  you  exaggerate 
preposterously  every  little  service  a  man  happens 
to  do  for  you.  Why  should  you  make  a  general 
offer  of  that  sort  ?  How  do  you  know  what  he  will 
be  asking  you  to  do  ?  Stuff  and  nonsense  !  Tell 
Willis  to  send  him  a  few  head  of  game.  You 
should  think  twice  before  you  give  a  blank  check  of 
that  sort  to  one  of  these  quibbling,  meddlesome 
Eadicals." 

"You  are  afraid  of  my  committing  myself  to 
'  the  bottomless  perjury  of  an  et  cetera/  "  said  Philip, 
smiling,  as  he  turned  to  fold  his  letter.  "  But 
I  think  I  am  not  doing  any  mischief ;  at  all 
events,  I  could  not  be  content  to  say  less.  And  I 
have  a  notion  that  he  would  regard  a  present  of 
game  just  now  as  an  insult.  I  should,  in  his 
place." 

"Yes,  yes,  you;  but  you  don't  make  yourself  a 
measure  of  Dissenting  preachers,  I  hope,"  said  Sir 
Maximus,  rather  wrathfully.  "What  do  you  say, 
Gus?" 

"Phil  is  right,"  said  the  Kector,  in  an  absolute 
tone.  "  I  would  not  deal  with  a  "Dissenter,  or  put 
profits  into  the  pocket  of  a  Eadical  which  I  might 
put  into  the  pocket  of  a  good  Churchman  and  a 
quiet  subject.     But  if  the  greatest  scoundrel  in  the 


FELIX   HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  221 

world  made  way  for  me,  or  picked  my  hat  up,  I 
would  thank  him.     So  would  you,  Max." 

"Pooh!  I  didn't  mean  that  one  should  n't  be- 
have like  a  gentleman,"  said  Sir  Maximus,  in  some 
vexation.  He  had  great  pride  in  his  son's  superi- 
ority even  to  himself ;  but  he  did  not  enjoy  having 
his  own  opinion  argued  down  as  it  always  was, 
and  did  not  quite  trust  the  dim  vision  opened  by 
Phil's  new  words  and  new  notions.  He  could  only 
submit  in  silence  while  the  letter  was  delivered  to 
Christian,  with  the  order  to  start  for  Malthouse 
Yard  immediately. 

Meanwhile,  in  that  somewhat  dim  locality  the 
possible  claimant  of  the  note-book  and  the  chain 
was  thought  of  and  expected  with  palpitating  agi- 
tation. Mr.  Lyon  was  seated  in  his  study,  looking 
haggard  and  already  aged  from  a  sleepless  night. 
He  was  so  afraid  lest  his  emotion  should  deprive 
him  of  the  presence  of  mind  necessary  to  the  due 
attention  to  particulars  in  the  coming  interview,  that 
he  continued  to  occupy  his  sight  and  touch  with 
the  objects  which  had  stirred  the  depths,  not  only 
of  memory,  but  of  dread.  Once  again  he  unlocked 
a  small  box  which  stood  beside  his  desk,  and 
took  from  it  a  little  oval  locket,  and  compared  this 
with  one  which  hung  with  the  seals  on  the  stray 
gold  chain.  There  was  the  same  device  in  enamel 
on  the  back  of  both,  —  clasped  hands  surrounded 
with  blue  flowers.  Both  had  round  the  face  a 
name  in  gold  italics  on  a  blue  ground:  the  name 
on  the  locket  taken  from  the  drawer  was  Maurice ; 
the  name  on  the  locket  which  hung  with  the  seals 
was  Annette,  and  within  the  circle  of  this  name 
there  was  a  lover's  knoi  of  light-brown  hair,  which 
matched  a  curl  that  lay  in  the  box.     The  hair  in 


222  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

the  locket  which  bore  the  name  of  Maurice  was  of 
a  very  dark  brown,  and  before  returning  it  to  the 
drawer  Mr.  Lyon  noted  the  colour  and  quality  of 
this  hair  more  carefully  than  ever.  Then  he  re- 
curred to  the  note-book :  undoubtedly  there  had 
been  something,  probably  a  third  name,  beyond  the 
names  Maurice  Christian,  which  had  themselves 
been  rubbed  and  slightly  smeared  as  if  by  accident ; 
and  from  the  very  first  examination  in  the  vestry, 
Mr.  Lyon  could  not  prevent  himself  from  trans- 
ferring the  mental  image  of  the  third  name  in  faint 
lines  to  the  rubbed  leather.  The  leaves  of  the  note- 
book seemed  to  have  been  recently  inserted ;  they 
were  of  fresh  white  paper,  and  only  bore  some  ab- 
breviations in  pencil  with  a  notation  of  small  sums. 
Nothing  could  be  gathered  from  the  comparison  of 
the  writing  in  the  book  with  that  of  the  yellow 
letters  which  lay  in  the  box :  the  smeared  name 
had  been  carefully  printed,  and  so  bore  no  resem- 
blance to  the  signature  of  those  letters ;  and  the 
pencil  abbreviations  and  figures  had  been  made  too 
hurriedly  to  bear  any  decisive  witness.  "  I  will  ask 
him  to  write,  —  to  write  a  description  of  the  locket," 
had  been  one  of  Mr.  Lyon's  thoughts ;  but  he 
faltered  in  that  intention.  His  power  of  fulfilling 
it  must  depend  on  what  he  saw  in  this  visitor,  of 
whose  coming  he  had  a  horrible  dread,  at  the  very- 
time  he  was  writing  to  demand  it.  In  that  demand 
he  was  obeying  the  voice  of  his  rigid  conscience, 
which  had  never  left  him  perfectly  at  rest  under 
his  one  act  of  deception,  —  the  concealment  from 
Esther  that  he  was  not  her  natural  father,  the 
assertion  of  a  false  claim  upon  her.  "  Let  my  path 
be  henceforth  simple,"  he  had  said  to  himself  in 
the  anguish  of  that  night ;  "  let  me  seek  to  know 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  223 

what  is,  and  if  possible  to  declare  it."  If  he  was 
really  going  to  find  himself  face  to  face  with  the 
man  who  had  been  Annette's  husband,  and  who 
was  Esther's  father,  —  if  that  wandering  of  his  from 
the  light  had  brought  the  punishment  of  a  blind 
sacrilege  as  the  issue  of  a  conscious  transgression,  — 
lie  prayed  that  he  might  be  able  to  accept  all  con- 
sequences of  pain  to  himself.  But  he  saw  other 
possibilities  concerning  the  claimant  of  the  book 
and  chain.  His  ignorance  and  suspicions  as  to  the 
history  and  character  of  Annette's  husband  made  it 
credible  that  he  had  laid  a  plan  for  convincing  her 
of  his  death  as  a  means  of  freeing  himself  from  a 
burthensome  tie  ;  but  it  seemed  equally  probable 
that  he  was  really  dead,  and  that  these  articles  of 
property  had  been  a  bequest  or  a  payment  or  even 
a  sale  to  their  present  owner.  Indeed,  in  all  these 
years  there  was  no  knowing  into  how  many  hands 
such  pretty  trifles  might  have  passed.  And  the 
claimant  might,  after  all,  have  no  connection  with 
the  Debarrys ;  he  might  not  come  on  this  day  or 
the  next.  There  might  be  more  time  left  for  re- 
flection and  prayer. 

All  these  possibilities,  which  would  remove  the 
pressing  need  for  difficult  action,  Mr.  Lyon  repre- 
sented to  himself,  but  he  had  no  effective  belief  in 
them;  his  belief  went  with  his  strongest  feeling, 
and  in  these  moments  his  strongest  feeling  was 
dread.  He  trembled  under  the  weight  that  seemed 
already  added  to  his  Own  sin;  he  felt  himself 
already  confronted  by  Annette's  husband  and 
Esther's  father.  Perhaps  the  father  was  a  gen- 
tleman on  a  visit  to  the  Debarrys.  There  was  no 
hindering  the  pang  with  which  the  old  man  said 
to  himself,  — 


±24  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"The  child  will  not  be  sorry  to  leave  this  poor 
home,  and  I  shall  be  guilty  in  her  sight." 

He  was  walking  about  among  the  rows  of  books 
when  there  came  a  loud  rap  at  the  outer  door.  The 
rap  shook  him  so  that  he  sank  into  his  chair,  feel- 
ing almost  powerless.     Lyddy  presented  herself. 

"  Here  's  ever  such  a  fine  man  from  the  Manor 
wants  to  see  you,  sir.  Dear  heart,  dear  heart ! 
shall  I  tell  him  you  're  too  bad  to  see  him  ? " 

"  Show  him  up,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  making  an  effort 
to  rally.  When  Christian  appeared,  the  minister 
half  rose,  leaning  on  an  arm  of  his  chair,  and  said, 
"  Be  seated,  sir,"  seeing  nothing  but  that  a  tall  man 
was  entering. 

"  I  've  brought  you  a  letter  from  Mr.  Debarry," 
said  Christian,  in  an  off-hand  manner.  This  rusty 
little  man,  in  his  dismal  chamber,  seemed  to  the 
Ulysses  of  the  steward's  room  a  pitiable  sort  of 
human  curiosity,  to  whom  a  man  of  the  world 
would  speak  rather  loudly,  in  accommodation  to  an 
eccentricity  which  was  likely  to  be  accompanied 
with  deafness.  One  cannot  be  eminent  in  every- 
thing ;  and  if  Mr.  Christian  had  dispersed  his  facul- 
ties in  study  that  would  have  enabled  him  to  share 
unconventional  points  of  view,  he  might  have  worn 
a  mistaken  kind  of  boot,  and  been  less  competent 
to  win  at  ecarte  or  at  betting  or  in  any  other  con- 
test suitable  to  a  person  of  figure. 

As  he  seated  himself,  Mr.  Lyon  opened  the  letter, 
and  held  •  it  close  to  his  eyes,  so  that  his  face  was 
hidden.  But  at  the  word  "  servant "  he  could  not 
avoid  starting,  and  looking  off  the  letter  towards 
the  bearer.  Christian,  knowing  what  was  in  the 
letter,  conjectured  that  the  old  man  was  amazed 
to  learn  that  so  distinguished-looking  a  personage 


MR.    LYON    AND    CHRISTIAN 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  225 

was  a  servant ;  he  leaned  forward  with  his  elbows 
on  his  knees,  balanced  his  cane  on  his  fingers,  and 
began  a  whispering  whistle.  The  minister  checked 
himself,  finishing  the  reading  of  the  letter,  and  then 
slowly  and  nervously  put  on  his  spectacles  to  survey 
this  man,  between  whose  fate  and  his  own  there 
might  be  a  terrible  collision.  The  word  "  servant " 
had  been  a  fresh  caution  to  him.  He  must  do  noth- 
ing rashly.     Esther's  lot  was  deeply  concerned. 

"  Here  is  the  seal  mentioned  in  the  letter,"  said 
Christian. 

Mr.  Lyon  drew  the  pocket-book  from  his  desk, 
and  after  comparing  the  seal  with  the  impression, 
said,  "  It  is  right,  sir ;  I  deliver  the  pocket-book  to 
you." 

He  held  it  out  with  the  seal ;  and  Christian  rose 
to  take  them,  saying  carelessly,  "  The  other  things 
—  the  chain  and  the  little  book  —  are  mine." 

"  Your  name  then  is  —  " 

"  Maurice  Christian." 

A  spasm  shot  through  Mr.  Lyon.  It  had  seemed 
possible  that  he  might  hear  another  name,  and  be 
freed  from  the  worse  half  of  his  anxiety.  His  next 
words  were  not  wisely  chosen,  but  escaped  him 
impulsively. 

"  And  you  have  no  other  name  ? " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Christian,  sharply. 

"  Be  so  good  as  to  reseat  yourself." 

Christian  did  not  comply.  "  I  'm  rather  in  a 
hurry,  sir,"  he  said,  recovering  his  coolness.  "  If  it 
suits  you  to  restore  to  me  those  small  articles  of  mine, 
I  shall  be  glad  ;  but  I  would  rather  leave  them  be- 
hind than  be  detained."  He  had  reflected  that  the 
minister  was  simply  a  punctilious  old  bore.  The 
question  meant  nothing  else.     But  Mr.  Lyon  had 

vol.  j.  —  35 


226  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

wrought  himself  up  to  the  task  of  finding  out,  then 
and  there,  if  possible,  whether  or  not  this  were 
Annette's  husband.  How  could  he  lay  himself 
and  his  sin  before  God  if  he  wilfully  declined  to 
learn  the  truth  ? 

"Nay,  sir,  I  will  not  detain  you  unreasonably," 
he  said  in  a  firmer  tone  than  before.  "  How  long 
have  these  articles  been  your  property  ?  " 

"  Oh,  for  more  than  twenty  years,"  said  Christian, 
carelessly. 

He  was  not  altogether  easy  under  the  minister's 
persistence,  but  for  that  very  reason  he  showed  no 
more  impatience. 

"  You  have  been  in  France  and  in  Germany  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  in  most  countries  on  the  Continent." 

"Be  so  good  as  to  write  me  your  name,"  said 
Mr.  Lyon,  dipping  a  pen  in  the  ink,  and  holding 
it  out  with  a  piece  of  paper. 

Christian  was  much  surprised,  but  not  now  greatly 
alarmed.  In  his  rapid  conjectures  as  to  the  expla- 
nation of  the  minister's  curiosity,  he  had  alighted  on 
one  which  might  carry  advantage  rather  than  in- 
convenience. But  he  was  not  going  to  commit 
himself. 

"  Before  I  oblige  you  there,  sir,"  he  said,  laying 
down  the  pen,  and  looking  straight  at  Mr.  Lyon, 
"I  must  know  exactly  the  reasons  you  have  for 
putting  these  questions  to  me.  You  are  a  stranger 
to  me,  —  an  excellent  person,  I  dare  say,  —  but  I 
have  no  concern  about  you  farther  than  to  get  from 
you  those  small  articles.  Do  you  still  doubt  that 
they  are  mine  ?  You  wished,  I  think,  that  I 
should  tell  you  what  the  locket  is  like.  It  has  a 
pair  of  hands  and  blue  flowers  on  one  side,  and  the 
name  Annette  round  the  hair  on  the  other  side. 


FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL.  227 

That  is  all  I  have  to  say.  If  you  wish  for  anything 
more  from  me,  you  will  be  good  enough  to  tell  me 
why  you  wish  it.  Now  then,  sir,  what  is  your 
concern  with  me  ? " 

The  cool  stare,  the  hard  challenging  voice,  with 
which  these  words  were  uttered,  made  them  fall 
like  the  beating,  cutting  chill  of  heavy  hail  on  Mr. 
Lyon.  He  sank  back  in  his  chair  in  utter  irresolu- 
tion and  helplessness.  How  was  it  possible  to  lay 
bare  the  sad  and  sacred  past  in  answer  to  such 
a  call  as  this  ?  The  dread  with  which  he  had 
thought  of  this  man's  coming,  the  strongly  con- 
firmed suspicion  that  he  was  really  Annette's  hus- 
band, intensified  the  antipathy  created  by  his 
gestures  and  glances.  The  sensitive  little  minister 
knew  instinctively  that  words  which  would  cost 
him  efforts  as  painful  as  the  obedient  footsteps  of  a 
wounded,  bleeding  hound  that  wills  a  foreseen  throe, 
would  fall  on  this  man  as  the  pressure  of  tender 
fingers  falls  on  a  brazen  glove.  And  Esther,  —  if 
this  man  was  her  father,  —  every  additional  word 
might  help  to  bring  down  irrevocable,  perhaps 
cruel,  consequences  on  her.  A  thick  mist  seemed 
to  have  fallen  where  Mr.  Lyon  was  looking  for  the 
track  of  duty ;  the  difficult  question,  how  far  he 
was  to  care  for  consequences  in  seeking  and  avow- 
ing the  truth,  seemed  anew  obscured.  All  these 
things,  like  the  vision  of  a  coming  calamity,  were 
compressed  into  a  moment  of  consciousness.  Noth- 
ing could  be  done  to-day ;  everything  must  be  de- 
ferred. He  answered  Christian  in  a  low,  apologetic 
tone,  — 

"  It  is  true,  sir ;  you  have  told  me  all  I  can 
demand.  I  have  no  sufficient  reason  for  detaining 
your  property  further." 


228  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

He  handed  the  note-book  and  chain  to  Christian, 
who  had  been  observing  him  narrowly,  and  now 
said  in  a  tone  of  indifference,  as  he  pocketed  the 
articles,  — 

"  Very  good,  sir.     I  wish  you  a  good-morning." 

"  Good-morning,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  feeling,  while 
the  door  closed  behind  his  guest,  that  mixture  of 
uneasiness  and  relief  which  all  procrastination  of 
difficulty  produces  in  minds  capable  of  strong  fore- 
cast. The  work  was  still  to  be  done.  He  had 
still  before  him  the  task  of  learning  everything 
that  could  be  learned  about  this  man's  relation  to 
himself  and  Esther. 

Christian,  as  he  made  his  way  back  along  Malt- 
house  Lane,  was  thinking,  "  This  old  fellow  has  got 
some  secret  in  his  head.  It 's  not  likely  he  can 
know  anything  about  me ;  it  must  be  about  Bycliffe. 
But  Bycliffe  was  a  gentleman  ;  how  should  he  ever 
have  had  anything  to  do  with  such  a  seedy  old 
ranter  as  that?" 


CHAPTEE  XV. 

And  doubt  shall  be  as  lead  upon  the  feet 
Of  thy  most  anxious  will. 

Mr.  Lyon  was  careful  to  look  in  at  Felix  as  soon  as 
possible  after  Christian's  departure,  to  tell  him  that 
his  trust  was  discharged.  During  the  rest  of  the 
day  he  was  somewhat  relieved  from  agitating  re- 
flections by  the  necessity  of  attending  to  his  minis- 
terial duties,  the  rebuke  of  rebellious  singers  being 
one  of  them ;  and  on  his  return  from  the  Monday 
evening  prayer-meeting  he  was  so  overcome  with 
weariness  that  he  went  to  bed  without  taking  note 
of  any  objects  in  his  study.  But  when  he  rose  the 
next  morning,  his  mind,  once  more  eagerly  active, 
was  arrested  by  Philip  Debarry's  letter,  which  still 
lay  open  on  his  desk,  and  was  arrested  by  precisely 
that  portion  which  had  been  unheeded  the  day 
before :  — 

"  I  shall  consider  myself  doubly  fortunate  if  at  any 
time  you  can  point  out  to  me  some  method  by  which  I 
may  procure  you  as  lively  a  satisfaction  as  I  am  now- 
feeling,  in  that  full  and  speedy  relief  from  anxiety 
which  I  owe  to  your  considerate  conduct." 

To  understand  how  these  words  could  carry  the 
suggestion  they  actually  had  for  the  minister  in  a 
crisis  of  peculiar  personal  anxiety  and  struggle,  we 
must  bear  in  mind  that  for  many  years  he  had 


230  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

walked  through  life  with  the  sense  of  having  for 
a  space  been  unfaithful  to  what  he  esteemed  the 
highest  trust  ever  committed  to  man,  —  the  min- 
isterial, vocation.  In  a  mind  of  any  nobleness,  a 
lapse  into  transgression  against  an  object  still  re- 
garded as  supreme,  issues  in  a  new  and  purer  devot- 
edness,  chastised  by  humility  and  watched  over  by 
a  passionate  regret.  So  it  was  with  that  ardent 
spirit  which  animated  the  little  body  of  Bufus  Lyon. 
Once  in  his  life  he  had  been  blinded,  deafened, 
hurried  along  by  rebellious  impulse ;  he  had  gone 
astray  after  his  own  desires,  and  had  let  the  fire  die 
out  on  the  altar ;  and  as  the  true  penitent,  hating 
his  self-besotted  error,  asks  from  all  coming  life 
duty  instead  of  joy,  and  service  instead  of  ease,  so 
Eufus  was  perpetually  on  the  watch  lest  he  should 
ever  again  postpone  to  some  private  affection  a  great 
public  opportunity  which  to  him  was  equivalent  to 
a  command. 

Now  here  was  an  opportunity  brought  by  a  com- 
bination of  that  unexpected,  incalculable  kind  which 
might  be  regarded  as  the  Divine  emphasis  invoking 
especial  attention  to  trivial  events,  — an  opportunity 
of  securing  what  Eufus  Lyon  had  often  wished  for 
as  a  means  of  honouring  truth,  and  exhibiting  error 
in  the  character  of  a  stammering,  halting,  short- 
breathed  usurper  of  office  and  dignity.  What  was 
more  exasperating  to  a  zealous  preacher,  with  whom 
copious  speech  was  not  a  difficulty  but  a  relief,  — 
who  never  lacked  argument,  but  only  combatants 
and  listeners,  —  than  to  reflect  that  there  were 
thousands  on  thousands  of  pulpits  in  this  kingdom, 
supplied  with  handsome  sounding-boards,  and  oc- 
cupying an  advantageous  position  in  buildings  far 
larger  than  the  chapel  in  Malthouse  Yard,  —  build- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  231 

ings  sure  to  be  places  of  resort,  even  as  the  markets 
were,  if  only  from  habit  and  interest ;  and  that 
these  pulpits  were  filled,  or  rather  made  vacuous, 
by  men  whose  privileged  education  in  the  ancient 
centres  of  instruction  issued  in  twenty  minutes' 
formal  reading  of  tepid  exhortation  or  probably 
infirm  deductions  from  premises  based  on  rotten 
scaffolding  ?  And  it  is  in  the  nature  of  exaspera- 
tion gradually  to  concentrate  itself.  The  sincere 
antipathy  of  a  dog  towards  cats  in  general,  necessa- 
rily takes  the  form  of  indignant  barking  at  the 
neighbour's  black  cat  which  makes  daily  trespass ; 
the  bark  at  imagined  cats,  though  a  frequent  exer- 
cise of  the  canine  mind,  is  yet  comparatively  feeble. 
Mr.  Lyon's  sarcasm  was  not  without  an  edge  when 
he  dilated  in  general  on  an  elaborate  education  for 
teachers  which  issued  in  the  minimum  of  teaching, 
but  it  found  a  whetstone  in  the  particular  example 
of  that  bad  system  known  as  the  Rector  of  Treby 
Magna.  There  was  nothing  positive  to  be  said 
against  the  Rev.  Augustus  Debarry ;  his  life  could 
not  be  pronounced  blameworthy  except  for  its  nega- 
tives. And  the  good  Rufus  was  too  pure-minded 
not  to  be  glad  of  that.  He  had  no  delight  in  vice 
as  discrediting  wicked  opponents ;  he  shrank  from 
dwelling  on  the  images  of  cruelty  or  of  grossness, 
and  his  indignation  was  habitually  inspired  only  by 
those  moral  and  intellectual  mistakes  which  darken 
the  soul  but  do  not  injure  or  degrade  the  temple  of 
the  body.  If  the  Rector  had  been  a  less  respectable 
man,  Rufus  would  have  more  reluctantly  made  him 
an  object  of  antagonism ;  but  as  an  incarnation  of 
soul-destroying  error,  dissociated  from  those  baser 
sins  which  have  no  good  repute  even  with  the 
worldly,  it  would  be  an  argumentative   luxury  to 


232  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

get  into  close  quarters  with  him,  and  fight  with  a 
dialectic  short-sword  in  the  eyes  of  the  Treby  world 
(sending  also  a  written  account  thereof  to  the  chief 
organs  of  Dissenting  opinion).  Vice  was  essentially 
stupid,  —  a  deaf  and  eyeless  monster,  insusceptible 
to  demonstration :  the  Spirit  might  work  on  it  by 
unseen  ways,  and  the  unstudied  sallies  of  sermons 
were  often  as  the  arrows  which  pierced  and  awak- 
ened the  brutified  conscience;  but  illuminated 
thought,  finely  dividing  speech,  were  the  choicer 
weapons  of  the  Divine  armory,  which  whoso  could 
wield  must  be  careful  not  to  leave  idle. 

Here,  then,  was  the  longed-for  opportunity.  Here 
was  an  engagement  —  an  expression  of  a  strong 
wish  —  on  the  part  of  Philip  Debarry,  if  it  were  in 
his  power,  to  procure  a  satisfaction  to  Eufus  Lyon. 
How  had  that  man  of  God  and  exemplary  Indepen- 
dent minister,  Mr.  Ainsworth,  of  persecuted  sanctity, 
conducted  himself  when  a  similar  occasion  had  be- 
fallen him  at  Amsterdam  ?  He  had  thought  of 
nothing  but  the  glory  of  the  highest  cause,  and  had 
converted  the  offer  of  recompense  into  a  public 
debate  with  a  Jew  on  the  chief  mysteries  of  the 
faith.  Here  was  a  model :  the  case  was  nothing 
short  of  a  heavenly  indication,  and  he,  Eufus  Lyon, 
would  seize  the  occasion  to  demand  a  public  debate 
with  the  Eector  on  the  Constitution  of  the  true 
Church. 

What  if  he  were  inwardly  torn  by  doubt  and 
anxiety  concerning  his  own  private  relations  and 
the  facts  of  his  past  life  ?  That  danger  of  absorp- 
tion within  the  narrow  bounds  of  self  only  urged 
him  the  more  towards  action  which  had  a  wider 
bearing,  and  might  tell  on  the  welfare  of  England  at 
lame.     It  was  decided.     Before  the  minister  went 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  233 

down  to  his  breakfast  that  morning  he  had  written 
the  following  letter  to  Mr.  Philip  Debarry  :  — 

Sib,  —  Referring  to  your  letter  of  yesterday,  I  find 
the  following  words:  "  I  shall  consider  myself  doubly 
fortunate  if  at  any  time  you  can  point  out  to  me  some 
method  by  which  I  may  procure  you  as  lively  a  satis- 
faction as  I  am  now  feeling,  in  that  full  and  speedy 
relief  from  anxiety  which  I  owe  to  your  considerate 
conduct." 

I  am  not  unaware,  sir,  that,  in  the  usage  of  the 
world,  there  are  words  of  courtesy  (so  called)  which 
are  understood,  by  those  amongst  whom  they  are  cur- 
rent, to  have  no  precise  meaning,  and  to  constitute  no 
bond  or  obligation.  I  will  not  now  insist  that  this  is 
an  abuse  of  language,  wherein  our  fallible  nature  re- 
quires the  strictest  safeguards  against  laxity  and  mis- 
application, for  I  do  not  apprehend  that  in  writing  the 
words  I  have  above  quoted,  you  were  open  to  the  re- 
proach of  using  phrases  which,  while  seeming  to  carry 
a  specific  meaning,  were  really  no  more  than  what  is 
called  a  polite  form.  I  believe,  sir,  that  you  used 
these  words  advisedly,  sincerely,  and  with  an  honour- 
able intention  of  acting  on  them  as  a  pledge,  should 
such  action  be  demanded.  No  other  supposition  on  my 
part  would  correspond  to  the  character  you  bear  as  a 
young  man  who  aspires  (albeit  mistakenly)  to  engraft 
the  finest  fruits  of  public  virtue  on  a  creed  and  institu- 
tions whereof  the  sap  is  composed  rather  of  human 
self-seeking  than  of  everlasting  truth. 

Wherefore  I  act  on  this  my  belief  in  the  integrity  of 
your  written  word;  and  I  beg  you  to  procure  for  me 
(as  it  is  doubtless  in  your  power)  that  I  may  be  allowed 
a  public  discussion  with  your  near  relative,  the  Rector 
of  this  parish,  the  Reverend  Augustus  Debarry,  to  be 
held  in  the  large  room  of  the  Free  School,  or  in  the 
Assembly  Room  of  the  Marquis  of  Granby,  these  being 
the  largest  covered   spaces    at  our  command.     For   I 


234  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

presume  he  would  neither  allow  me  to  speak  within 
his  church,  nor  would  consent  himself  to  speak  within 
my  chapel;  and  the  probable  inclemency  of  the  ap- 
proaching season  forbids  an  assured  expectation  that 
we  could  discourse  in  the  open  air.  The  subjects  I 
desire  to  discuss  are,  —  first,  the  Constitution  of  the 
true  Church;  and,  secondly,  the  bearing  thereupon  of 
the  English  Reformation.  Confidently  expecting  that 
you  will  comply  with  this  request,  which  is  the  se- 
quence of  your  expressed  desire,  I  remain,  sir,  yours, 
with  the  respect  offered  to  a  sincere  withstaader, 

Rufus  Lyon. 
Malthousb  Yard. 

After  writing  this  letter,  the  good  Rufus  felt  that 
serenity  and  elevation  of  mind  which  is  infallibly 
brought  by  a  preoccupation  with  the  wider  relations 
of  things.  Already  he  was  beginning  to  sketch  the 
course  his  argument  might  most  judiciously  take  in 
the  coming  debate  ;  his  thoughts  were  running  into 
sentences,  and  marking  off  careful  exceptions  in 
parenthesis ;  and  he  had  come  down  and  seated  him- 
self at  the  breakfast-table  quite  automatically,  with- 
out expectation  of  toast  or  coffee,  when  Esther's 
voice  and  touch  recalled  him  to  an  inward  debate 
of  another  kind,  in  which  he  felt  himself  much 
weaker.  Again  there  arose  before  him  the  image 
of  that  cool,  hard-eyed,  worldly  man,  who  might  be 
this  dear  child's  father,  and  one  against  whose  rights 
he  had  himself  grievously  offended.  Always  as  the 
image  recurred  to  him  Mr.  Lyon's  heart  sent  forth  a 
prayer  for  guidance,  but  no  definite  guidance  had 
yet  made  itself  visible  for  him.  It  could  not  be 
guidance,  it  was  a  temptation,  that  said,  "  Let  the 
matter  rest :  seek  to  know  no  more ;  know  only 
what  is  thrust  upon  you."     The  remembrance  that 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  235 

in  his  tims  of  wandering  he  had  wilfully  remained 
in  ignorance  of  facts  which  he  might  have  inquired 
after,  deepened  the  impression  that  it  was  now  an 
imperative  duty  to  seek  the  fullest  attainable  knowl- 
edge. And  the  inquiry  might  possibly  issue  in  a 
blessed  repose,  by  putting  a  negative  on  all  his  sus- 
picions. But  the  more  vividly  all  the  circumstances 
became  present  to  him,  the  more  unfit  he  felt  him- 
self to  set  about  any  investigation  concerning  this 
man  who  called  himself  Maurice  Christian.  He 
could  seek  no  confidant  or  helper  among  "  the 
brethren  ; "  he  was  obliged  to  admit  to  himself  that 
the  members  of  his  church,  with  whom  he  hoped  to 
go  to  heaven,  were  not  easy  to  converse  with  on 
earth  touching  the  deeper  secrets  of  his  experience, 
and  were  still  less  able  to  advise  him  as  to  the 
wisest  procedure,  in  a  case  of  high  delicacy,  with  a 
worldling  who  had  a  carefully  trimmed  whisker  and 
a  fashionable  costume.  For  the  first  time  in  his 
life  it  occurred  to  the  minister  that  he  should  be 
glad  of  an  adviser  who  had  more  worldly  than 
spiritual  experience,  and  that  it  might  not  be  in- 
consistent with  his  principles  to  seek  some  light 
from  one  who  had  studied  human  law.  But  it 
was  a  thought  to  be  paused  upon,  and  not  fol- 
lowed out  rashly ;  some  other  guidance  might 
intervene. 

Esther  noticed  that  her  father  was  in  a  fit  of 
abstraction,  that  he  seemed  to  swallow  his  coffee 
and  toast  quite  unconsciously,  and  that  he  vented 
from  time  to  time  a  low  guttural  interjection,  which 
was  habitual  with  him  when  he  was  absorbed  by 
an  inward  discussion.  She  did  not  disturb  him  by 
remarks,  and  only  wondered  whether  anything  un- 
usual had   occurred   on  Sunday  evening.     But   at 


236  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

last  she  thought  it  needful  to  say,  "  You  recollect 
what  I  told  you  yesterday,  father  ? " 

"  Nay,  child ;  what  ? "  said  Mr.  Lyon,  rousing 
himself. 

"  That  Mr.  Jermyn  asked  me  if  you  would  prob- 
ably be  at  home  this  morning  before  one  o'clock." 

Esther  was  surprised  to  see  her  father  start  and 
change  colour  as  if  he  had  been  shaken  by  some 
sudden  collision  before  he  answered,  — 

"  Assuredly  ;  I  do  not  intend  to  move  from  my 
study  after  I  have  once  been  out  to  give  this  letter 
to  Zachary." 

"  Shall  I  tell  Lyddy  to  take  him  up  at  once  to 
your  study  if  he  comes  ?  If  not,  I  shall  have  to 
stay  in  my  own  room,  because  I  shall  be  at  home 
all  this  morning,  and  it  is  rather  cold  now  to  sit 
without  a  fire." 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  let  him  come  up  to  me ;  unless, 
indeed,  he  should  bring  a  second  person,  which 
might  happen,  seeing  that  in  all  likelihood  he  is 
coming,  as  hitherto,  on  electioneering  business. 
And  I  could  not  well  accommodate  two  visitors 
upstairs." 

While  Mr.  Lyon  went  out  to  Zachary,  the  pew- 
opener,  to  give  him  a  second  time  the  commission 
of  carrying  a  letter  to  Treby  Manor,  Esther  gave 
her  injunction  to  Lyddy  that  if  one  gentleman  came 
he  was  to  be  shown  upstairs,  —  if  two,  they  were  to 
be  shown  into  the  parlour.  But  she  had  to  resolve 
various  questions  before  Lyddy  clearly  saw  what 
was  expected  of  her,  —  as  that  "  if  it  was  the  gentle- 
man as  came  on  Thursday  in  the  pepper-and-salt 
coat,  was  he  to  be  shown  upstairs  ?  And  the  gen- 
tleman from  the  Manor  yesterday  as  went  out 
whistling,  —  had   Miss   Esther   heard  about  him  1 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  237 

There  seemed  no  end  of  these  great  folks  coming  to 
Malthouse  Yard  since  there  was  talk  of  the  election  ; 
but  they  might  be  poor  lost  creatures  the  most 
of  'em."  Whereupon  Lyddy  shook  her  head  and 
groaned,  under  an  edifying  despair  as  to  the  future 
lot  of  gentlemen  callers. 

Esther  always  avoided  asking  questions  of  Lyddy, 
who  found  an  answer  as  she  found  a  key,  by  pour- 
ing out  a  pocketful  of  miscellanies.  But  she  had 
remarked  so  many  indications  that  something  had 
happened  to  cause  her  father  unusual  excitement 
and  mental  preoccupation,  that  she  could  not  help 
connecting  with  them  the  fact  of  this  visit  from  the 
Manor,  which  he  had  not  mentioned  to  her. 

She  sat  down  in  the  dull  parlour  and  took  up  her 
netting ;  for  since  Sunday  she  had  felt  unable  to 
read  when  she  was  alone,  being  obliged,  in  spite  of 
herself,  to  think  of  Felix  Holt,  —  to  imagine  what 
he  would  like  her  to  be,  and  what  sort  of  views  he 
took  of  life  so  as  to  make  it  seem  valuable  in  the 
absence  of  all  elegance,  luxury,  gayety,  or  romance. 
Had  he  yet  reflected  that  he  had  behaved  very 
rudely  to  her  on  Sunday  ?  Perhaps  not.  Perhaps 
he  had  dismissed  her  from  his  mind  with  contempt. 
And  at  that  thought  Esther's  eyes  smarted  unpleas- 
antly. She  was  fond  of  netting,  because  it  showed 
to  advantage  both  her  hand  and  her  foot ;  and  across 
this  image  of  Felix  Holt's  indifference  and  contempt 
there  passed  the  vaguer  image  of  a  possible  some- 
body who  would  admire  her  hands  and  feet,  and  de- 
light in  looking  at  their  beauty,  and  long,  yet  not 
dare,  to  kiss  them.  Life  would  be  much  easier  in 
the  presence  of  such  a  love.  But  it  was  precisely 
this  longing  after  her  own  satisfaction  that  Felix 
had  reproached  *>at  t^+V     Did  he  want  her  to  be 


238  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

heroic?  That  seemed  impossible  without  some 
great  occasion.  Her  life  was  a  heap  of  fragments, 
and  so  were  her  thoughts ;  some  great  energy  was 
needed  to  bind  them  together.  Esther  was  beginning 
to  lose  her  complacency  at  her  own  wit  and  criti- 
cism ;  to  lose  the  sense  of  superiority  in  an  awaken- 
ing need  for  reliance  on  one  whose  vision  was  wider, 
whose  nature  was  purer  and  stronger  than  her  own. 
But  then,  she  said  to  herself,  that  "  one  "  must  be 
tender  to  her,  not  rude  and  predominating  in  his 
manners.  A  man  with  any  chivalry  in  him  could 
never  adopt  a  scolding  tone  towards  a  woman,  — 
that  is,  towards  a  charming  woman.  But  Felix  had 
no  chivalry  in  him.  He  loved  lecturing  and  opinion 
too  well  ever  to  love  any  woman. 

In  this  way  Esther  strove  to  see  that  Felix  was 
thoroughly  in  the  wrong,  —  at  least,  if  he  did  not 
come  again  expressly  to  show  that  he  was  sorry. 


CHAPTEE  XVI 

Trueblue.  These  men  have  no  votes.  Why  should  I  court 
them? 

Grayfox.  No  votes,  but  power. 

Trueblue.   What !  over  charities  ? 

Grayfox.  No,  over  brains :  which  disturbs  the  canvass.  In  a 
natural  state  of  things  the  average  price  of  a  vote  at  Paddlebrook 
is  nine-and-sixpence,  throwing  the  fifty-pound  tenants,  who  cost 
nothing,  into  the  divisor.  But  these  talking  men  cause  an  artificial 
rise  of  prices. 

The  expected  important  knock  at  the  door  came 
about  twelve  o'clock,  and  Esther  could^hear  that 
there  were  two  visitors.  Immediately  the  parlour 
door  was  opened,  and  the  shaggy-haired,  cravatless 
image  of  Felix  Holt,  which  was  just  then  full  in 
the  mirror  of  Esther's  mind,  was  displaced  by  the 
highly  contrasted  appearance  of  a  personage  whose 
name  she  guessed  before  Mr.  Jermyn  had  announced 
it.  The  perfect  morning  costume  of  that  day  dif- 
fered much  from  our  present  ideal ;  it  was  essential 
that  a  gentleman's  chin  should  be  well  propped,  that 
his  collar  should  have  a  voluminous  roll,  that  his 
waistcoat  should  imply  much  discrimination,  and 
that  his  buttons  should  be  arranged  in  a  manner 
which  would  now  expose  him  to  general  contempt. 
And  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  at  the  distant 
period  when  Treby  Magna  first  knew  the  excitements 
of  an  election,  there  existed  many  other  anomalies 
now  obsolete,  besides  short-waisted  coats  and  broad 
stiffeners. 


240  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

But  we  have  some  notions  of  beauty  and  fitness 
which  withstand  the  centuries;  and  quite  irrespec- 
tive of  dates,  it  would  be  pronounced  that  at  the 
age  of  thirty-four  Harold  Transome  was  a  striking 
and  handsome  man.  He  was  one  of  those  people, 
as  Denner  had  remarked,  to  whose  presence  in 
the  room  you  could  not  be  indifferent:  if  you 
do  not  hate  or  dread  them,  you  must  find  the 
touch  of  their  hands,  nay,  their  very  shadows, 
agreeable. 

Esther  felt  a  pleasure  quite  new  to  her  as  she 
saw  his  finely  embrowned  face  and  full  bright  eyes 
turned  towards  her  with  an  air  of  deference  by 
which  gallantry  must  commend  itself  to  a  refined 
woman  who  is  not  absolutely  free  from  vanity. 
Harold  Transome  regarded  women  as  slight  things, 
but  he  was  fond  of  slight  things  in  the  intervals 
of  business  ;  and  he  held  it  among  the  chief  arts  of 
life  to  keep  these  pleasant  diversions  within  such 
bounds  that  they  should  never  interfere  with  the 
course  of  his  serious  ambition.  Esther  was  per- 
fectly aware,  as  he  took  a  chair  near  her,  that  he 
was  under  some  admiring  surprise  at  her  appearance 
and  manner.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  She 
believed  that  in  the  eyes  of  a  high-bred  man  no 
young  lady  in  Treby  could  equal  her;  she  felt  a 
glow  of  delight  at  the  sense  that  she  was  being 
looked  at. 

"  My  father  expected  you,"  she  said  to  Mr.  Jer- 
myn.  "  I  delivered  your  letter  to  him  yesterday. 
He  will  be  down  immediately." 

She  disentangled  her  foot  from  her  netting  and 
wound  it  up. 

"  I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  let  us  disturb  you," 
said   Harold,  noticing  her   action.     "We   come   to 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  241 

discuss  election  affairs,  and  we  particularly  desire 
to  interest  the  ladies." 

"  I  have  no  interest  with  any  one  who  is  not  al- 
ready on  the  right  side,"  said  Esther,  smiling. 

"  I  am  happy  to  see  at  least  that  you  wear  the 
Liberal  colours." 

"  I  fear  I  must  confess  that  it  is  more  from  love 
of  blue  than  from  love  of  Liberalism.  Yellow  opin- 
ions could  only  have  brunettes  on  their  side." 
Esther  spoke  with  her  usual  pretty  fluency,  but  she 
had  no  sooner  uttered  the  words  than  she  thought 
how  angry  they  would  have  made  Felix. 

"  If  my  cause  is  to  be  recommended  by  the  be- 
comingness  of  my  colours,  then  I  am  sure  you  are 
acting  in  my  interest  by  wearing  them." 

Esther  rose  to  leave  the  room. 

"  Must  you  really  go  ? "  said  Harold,  preparing  to 
open  the  door  for  her. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  an  engagement,  —  a  lesson  at  half- 
past  twelve,"  said  Esther,  bowing  and  floating  out 
like  a  blue-robed  Naiad,  but  not  without  a  suffused 
blush  as  she  passed  through  the  doorway. 

It  was  a  pity  the  room  was  so  small,  Harold 
Transome  thought ;  this  girl  ought  to  walk  in  a 
house  where  there  were  halls  and  corridors.  But 
he  had  soon  dismissed  this  chance  preoccupation 
with  Esther ;  for  before  the  door  was  closed  again 
Mr.  Lyon  had  entered,  and  Harold  was  entirely 
bent  on  what  had  been  the  object  of  his  visit.  The 
minister,  though  no  elector  himself,  had  consider- 
able influence  over  Liberal  electors,  and  it  was  the 
part  of  wisdom  in  a  candidate  to  cement  all  politi- 
cal adhesion  by  a  little  personal  regard,  if  possible. 
Garstin  was  a  harsh  and  wiry  fellow ;  he  seemed 
to  suggest  that  sour  whey,  which  some  say  was  the 

VOL.  1.  — 16. 


242  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

original  meaning  of  Whig  in  the  Scottish,  and  it 
might  assist  the  theoretic  advantages  of  Radicalism 
if  it  could  he  associated  with  a  more  generous  pres- 
ence. What  would  conciliate  the  personal  regard 
of  old  Mr.  Lyon  became  a  curious  problem  to 
Harold,  now  the  little  man  made  his  appearance. 
But  canvassing  makes  a  gentleman  acquainted  with 
many  strange  animals,  together  with  the  ways  of 
catching  and  taming  them ;  and  thus  the  knowledge 
of  natural  history  advances  amongst  the  aristocracy 
and  the  wealthy  commoners  of  our  land. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  have  secured  this  opportunity 
of  making  your  personal  acquaintance,  Mr.  Lyon," 
said  Harold,  putting  out  his  hand  to  the  minister, 
when  Jermyn  had  mentioned  his  name.  "  I  am  to 
address  the  electors  here,  in  the  Market-Place,  to- 
morrow; and  I  should  have  been  sorry  to  do  so 
without  first  paying  my  respects  privately  to  my 
chief  friends,  as  there  may  be  points  on  which  they 
particularly  wish  me  to  explain  myself." 

"You  speak  civilly,  sir,  and  reasonably,"  said 
Mr.  Lyon,  with  a  vague  short-sighted  gaze,  in 
which  a  candidate's  appearance  evidently  went  for 
nothing.  "Pray  be  seated,  gentlemen.  It  is  my 
habit  to  stand." 

He  placed  himself  at  a  right  angle  with  his  visi- 
tors, his  worn  look  of  intellectual  eagerness,  slight 
frame,  and  rusty  attire,  making  an  odd  contrast 
with  their  flourishing  persons,  unblemished  cos- 
tume, and  comfortable  freedom  from  excitement. 
The  group  was  fairly  typical  of  the  difference  be- 
tween the  men  who  are  animated  by  ideas  and  the 
men  who  are  expected  to  apply  them.  Then  he 
drew  forth  his  spectacles,  and  began  to  rub  them 
with   the   thin  end   of  his   coat-tail.     He  was  in- 


PELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  243 

wardly  exercising  great  self-mastery,  —  suppressing 
the  thought  of  his  personal  needs,  which  Jermyn's 
presence  tended  to  suggest,  in  order  that  he  might 
be  equal  to  the  larger  duties  of  this  occasion. 

"  I  am  aware,  —  Mr.  Jermyn  has  told  me,"  said 
Harold,  — "  what  good  service  you  have  done  me 
already,  Mr.  Lyon.  The  fact  is,  a  man  of  intellect 
like  you  was  especially  needed  in  my  case.  The 
race  I  am  running  is  really  against  Garstin  only, 
who  calls  himself  a  Liberal,  though  he  cares  for 
nothing  and  understands  nothing  except  the  in- 
terests of  the  wealthy  traders.  And  you  have  been 
able  to  explain  the  difference  between  Liberal  and 
Liberal,  which,  as  you  and  I  know,  is  something 
like  the  difference  between  fish  and  fish." 

"Your  comparison  is  not  unapt,  sir,"  said  Mr. 
Lyon,  still  holding  his  spectacles  in  his  hand,  "  at 
this  epoch,  when  the  mind  of  the  nation  has  been 
strained  on  the  passing  of  one  measure.  Where 
a  great  weight  has  to  be  moved,  we  require  not 
so  much  selected  instruments  as  abundant  horse- 
power. But  it  is  an  unavoidable  evil  of  these 
massive  achievements  that  they  encourage  a  coarse 
undiscriminatingness  obstructive  of  more  nicely 
wrought  results,  and  an  exaggerated  expectation 
inconsistent  With  the  intricacies  of  our  fallen  and 
struggling  condition.  I  say  not  that  compromise 
is  unnecessary,  but  it  is  an  evil  attendant  on  our 
imperfection ;  and  I  would  pray  every  one  to  mark 
that  where  compromise  broadens,  intellect  and  con- 
science are  thrust  into  narrower  room.  Wherefore 
it  has  been  my  object  to  show  our  people  that  there 
are  many  who  have  helped  to  draw  the  car  of  Re- 
form, whose  ends  are  but  partial,  and  who  forsake 
not  the  ungodly  principle  of  selfish  alliances,  but 


244  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

would  only  substitute  Syria  for  Egypt,  —  thinking 
chiefly  of  their  own  share  in  peacocks,  gold,  and 
ivory." 

"Just  so,"  said  Harold,  who  was  quick  at  new 
languages,  and  still  quicker  at  translating  other 
men's  generalities  into  his  own  special  and  im- 
mediate purposes,  "men  who  will  be  satisfied  if 
they  can  only  bring  in  a  plutocracy,  buy  up  the 
land,  and  stick  the  old  crests  on  their  new  gate- 
ways. Now  the  practical  point  to  secure  against 
these  false  Liberals  at  present  is  that  our  electors 
should  not  divide  their  votes.  As  it  appears  that 
many  who  vote  for  Debarry  are  likely  to  split 
their  votes  in  favour  of  Garstin,  it  is  of  the  first 
consequence  that  my  voters  should  give  me  plum- 
pers. If  they  divide  their  votes  they  can't  keep 
out  Debarry,  and  they  may  help  to  keep  out  me. 
I  feel  some  confidence  in  asking  you  to  use  your 
influence  in  this  direction,  Mr.  Lyon.  We  candi- 
dates have  to  praise  ourselves  more  than  is  grace- 
ful; but  you  are  aware  that  while  I  belong  by 
my  birth  to  the  classes  that  have  their  roots  in 
tradition  and  all  the  old  loyalties,  my  experience 
has  lain  chiefly  among  those  who  make  their  own 
career,  and  depend  on  the  new  rather  than  the  old. 
I  have  had  the  advantage  of  considering  national 
welfare  under  varied  lights ;  I  have  wider  views 
than  those  of  a  mere  cotton  lord.  On  questions 
connected  with  religious  liberty  I  would  stop  short 
at  no  measure  that  was  not  thorough." 

"  I  hope  not,  sir,  —  I  hope  not,"  said  Mr.  Lyon, 
gravely ;  finally  putting  on  his  spectacles  and  ex- 
amining the  face  of  the  candidate,  whom  he  was 
preparing  to  turn  into  a  catechumen.  For  the 
good  Rufus,  conscious  of   his  political   importance 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  245 

as  an  organ  of  persuasion,  felt  it  his  duty  to  cate- 
chise a  little,  and  also  to  do  his  part  towards  im- 
pressing a  probable  legislator  with  a  sense  of  his 
responsibility.  But  the  latter  branch  of  duty 
somewhat  obstructed  the  catechising,  for  his  mind 
was  so  urged  by  considerations  which  he  held  in 
danger  of  being  overlooked,  that  the  questions  and 
answers  bore  a  very  slender  proportion  to  his  ex- 
position. It  was  impossible  to  leave  the  question 
of  church-rates  without  noting  the  grounds  of  their 
injustice,  and  without  a  brief  enumeration  of 
reasons  why  Mr.  Lyon,  for  his  own  part,  would 
not  present  that  passive  resistance  to  a  legal  im- 
position which  had  been  adopted  by  the  Friends 
(whose  heroism  in  this  regard  was  nevertheless 
worthy  of  all  honour). 

Comprehensive  talkers  are  apt  to  be  tiresome 
when  we  are  not  athirst  for  information ;  but,  to 
be  quite  fair,  we  must  admit  that  superior  reti- 
cence is  a  good  deal  due  to  the  lack  of  matter. 
Speech  is  often  barren ;  but  silence  also  does  not 
necessarily  brood  over  a  full  nest.  Your  still  fowl, 
blinking  at  you  without  remark,  may  all  the  while 
be  sitting  on  one  addled  nest-egg ;  and  when  it  takes 
to  cackling,  will  have  nothing  to  announce  but  that 
addled  delusion. 

Harold  Transome  was  not  at  all  a  patient  man,  but 
in  matters  of  business  he  was  quite  awake  to  his  cue, 
and  in  this  case  it  was  perhaps  easier  to  listen  than 
to  answer  questions.  But  Jermyn,  who  had  plenty 
of  work  on  his  hands,  took  an  opportunity  of  rising, 
and  saying,  as  he  looked  at  his  watch, — 

"I  must  really  be  at  the  office  in  five  minutes. 
You  will  find  me  there,  Mr,  Transome;  you  have 
probably  still  many  things  to  say  to  Mr.  Lyon." 


240  FELIX  HOLT.  THE  RADICAL. 

"I  beseech  you,  sir,"  said  the  minister,  changing 
colour,  and  by  a  quick  movement  laying  his  hand  on 
Jermyn's  arm,  —  "I  beseech  you  to  favour  me  with 
an  interview  on  some  private  business,  —  this  even- 
ing, if  it  were  possible." 

Mr.  Lyon,  like  others  who  are  habitually  occupied 
with  impersonal  subjects,  was  liable  to  this  impulsive 
sort  of  action.  He  snatched  at  the  details  of  life 
as  if  they  were  darting  past  him,  —  as  if  they  were 
like  the  ribbons  at  his  knees,  which  would  never  be 
tied  all  day  if  they  were  not  tied  on  the  instant. 
Through  these  spasmodic  leaps  out  of  his  abstrac- 
tions into  real  life,  it  constantly  happened  that  he 
suddenly  took  a  course  which  had  been  the  subject 
of  too  much  doubt  with  him  ever  to  have  been  de- 
termined on  by  continuous  thought.  And  if  Jermyn 
had  not  startled  him  by  threatening  to  vanish  just 
when  he  was  plunged  in  politics,  he  might  never 
have  made  up  his  mind  to  confide  in  a  worldly 
attorney. 

("An  odd  man,"  as  Mrs.  Muscat  observed,  "to 
have  such  a  gift  in  the  pulpit.  But  there's  One 
knows  better  than  we  do,"  —  which,  in  a  lady  who 
rarely  felt  her  judgment  at  a  loss,  was  a  concession 
that  showed  much  piety.) 

Jermyn  was  surprised  at  the  little  man's  eager- 
ness. "  By  all  means,"  he  answered  quite  cordially. 
"  Could  you  come  to  my  office  at  eight  o'clock  ? " 

"For  several  reasons  I  must  beg  you  to  come 
to  me." 

"  Oh,  very  good  1  I  '11  walk  out  and  see  you  this 
evening,  if  possible.  I  shall  have  much  pleasure  in 
being  of  any  use  to  you."  Jermyn  felt  that  in  the 
eyes  of  Harold  he  was  appearing  all  the  more  valu- 
able when  his  services  were  thus  in  request.     He 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  247 

went  out ;  and  Mr.  Lyon  easily  relapsed  into  politics, 
for  he  had  been  on  the  brink  of  a  favourite  subject 
on  which  he  was  at  issue  with  his  fellow-Liberals. 

At  that  time,  when  faith  in  the  efficacy  of  politi- 
cal change  was  at  fever-heat  in  ardent  Eeformers, 
many  measures  which  men  are  still  discussing  with 
little  confidence  on  either  side  were  then  talked 
about  and  disposed  of  like  property  in  near  rever- 
sion. Crying  abuses  —  "  bloated  paupers,"  "  bloated 
pluralists,"  and  other  corruptions  hindering  men 
from  being  wise  and  happy  —  had  to  be  fought 
against  and  slain.  Such  a  time  is  a  time  of  hope. 
Afterwards,  when  the  corpses  of  those  monsters 
have  been  held  up  to  the  public  wonder  and  ab- 
horrence, and  yet  wisdom  and  happiness  do  not 
follow,  but  rather  a  more  abundant  breeding  of 
the  foolish  and  unhappy,  comes  a  time  of  doubt 
and  despondency.  But  in  the  great  Reform-year 
Hope  was  mighty ;  the  prospect  of  Reform  had 
even  served  the  voters  instead  of  drink;  and  in 
one  place,  at  least,  there  had  been  "  a  dry  elec- 
tion." And  now  the  speakers  at  Reform  banquets 
were  exuberant  in  congratulation  and  promise  :  Lib- 
eral clergymen  of  the  Establishment  toasted  Liberal 
Catholic  clergymen  without  any  allusion  to  scarlet, 
and  Catholic  clergymen  replied  with  a  like  tender 
reserve.  Some  dwelt  on  the  abolition  of  all  abuses, 
and  on  millennial  blessedness  generally ;  others, 
whose  imaginations  were  less  suffused  with  ex- 
halations of  the  dawn,  insisted  chiefly  on  the 
ballot-box. 

Now  on  this  question  of  the  ballot  the  minister 
strongly  took  the  negative  side.  Our  pet  opinions 
are  usually  those  which  place  us  in  a  minority  of  a 
minority   amongst   our  own   party ;  very  happily. 


248  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

else  those  poor  opinions,  born  with  no  silver  spoon 
in  their  mouths,  —  how  would  they  get  nourished 
and  fed  ?  So  it  was  with  Mr.  Lyon  and  his  objec- 
tion to  the  ballot.  But  he  had  thrown  out  a  remark 
on  the  subject  which  was  not  quite  clear  to  his 
hearer,  who  interpreted  it  according  to  his  best  cal- 
culation of  probabilities. 

"  I  have  no  objection  to  the  ballot,"  said  Harold, 
"  but  I  think  that  is  not  the  sort  of  thing  we  have 
to  work  at  just  now.  We  should  n't  get  it.  And 
other  questions  are  imminent." 

"  Then,  sir,  you  would  vote  for  the  ballot  ?  "  said 
Mr.  Lyon,  stroking  his  chin. 

"  Certainly,  if  the  point  came  up.  I  have  too 
much  respect  for  the  freedom  of  the  voter  to  oppose 
anything  which  offers  a  chance  of  making  that  free- 
dom more  complete." 

Mr.  Lyon  looked  at  the  speaker  with  a  pitying 
smile  and  a  subdued  "  H'm-m-m,"  which  Harold  took 
for  a  sign  of  satisfaction.     He  was  soon  undeceived. 

"  You  grieve  me,  sir ;  you  grieve  me  much.  And 
I  pray  you  to  reconsider  this  question,  for  it  will 
take  you  to  the  root,  as  I  think,  of  political  morality. 
I  engage  to  show  to  any  impartial  mind,  duly  fur- 
nished with  the  principles  of  public  and  private  rec- 
titude, that  the  ballot  would  be  pernicious,  and  that 
if  it  were  not  pernicious  it  would  still  be  futile.  I 
will  show,  first,  that  it  would  be  futile  as  a  preserva- 
tive from  bribery  and  illegitimate  influence ;  and, 
secondly,  that  it  would  be  in  the  worst  kind  per- 
nicious, as  shutting  the  door  against  those  influences 
whereby  the  soul  of  a  man  and  the  character  of  a 
citizen  are  duly  educated  for  their  great  functions. 
Be  not  alarmed  if  I  detain  you,  sir.  It  is  well  worth 
the  while." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  249 

"  Confound  this  old  man  ! "  thought  Harold.  "  I  '11 
never  make  a  canvassing  call  on  a  preacher  again, 
unless  he  has  lost  his  voice  from  a  cold."  He  was 
going  to  excuse  himself  as  prudently  as  he  could,  by 
deferring  the  subject  till  the  morrow,  and  inviting 
Mr.  Lyon  to  come  to  him  in  the  committee-room 
before  the  time  appointed  for  his  public  speech ; 
but  he  was  relieved  by  the  opening  of  the  door. 
Lyddy  put  in  her  head  to  say,  — 

"  If  you  please,  sir,  here 's  Mr.  Holt  wants  to 
know  if  he  may  come  in  and  speak  to  the  gentle- 
man. He  begs  your  pardon,  but  you  're  to  say  '  no ' 
if  you  don't  like  him  to  come." 

"  Nay ;  show  him  in  at  once,  Lyddy.  A  young 
man,"  Mr.  Lyon  went  on,  speaking  to  Harold, 
"  whom  a  representative  ought  to  know,  —  no  voter, 
but  a  man  of  ideas  and  study." 

"  He  is  thoroughly  welcome,"  said  Harold,  truth- 
fully enough,  though  he  felt  little  interest  in  the 
voteless  man  of  ideas  except  as  a  diversion  from 
the  subject  of  the  ballot.  He  had  been  standing 
for  the  last  minute  or  two,  feeling  less  of  a  victim 
in  that  attitude,  and  more  able  to  calculate  on 
means  of  escape. 

"Mr.  Holt,  sir,"  said  the  minister,  as  Felix  en- 
tered, "  is  a  young  friend  of  mine,  whose  opinions 
on  some  points  I  hope  to  see  altered,  but  who  has  a 
zeal  for  public  justice  which  I  trust  he  will  never 
lose." 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  Mr.  Holt,"  said  Harold,  bowing. 
He  perceived  from  the  way  in  which  Felix  bowed 
to  him  and  turned  to  the  most  distant  spot  in  the 
room,  that  the  candidate's  shake  of  the  hand  would 
not  be  welcome  here.  "  A  formidable  fellow,"  he 
thought,  "  capable  of  mounting  a  cart  in  the  market- 


250  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

place  to-morrow  and  cross-examining  me,  if  I  say 
anything  that  doesn't  please  him," 

"  Mr.  Lyon,"  said  Felix,  "  I  have  taken  a  liberty 
with  you  in  asking  to  see  Mr.  Transome  when  he  is 
engaged  with  you.  But  I  have  to  speak  to  him  on 
a  matter  which  I  should  n't  care  to  make  public  at 
present,  and  it  is  one  on  which  I  am  sure  you  will 
back  me.  I  heard  that  Mr.  Transome  was  here,  so 
I  ventured  to  come.  I  hope  you  will  both  excuse 
me,  as  my  business  refers  to  some  electioneering 
measures  which  are  being  taken  by  Mr.  Transome's 
agents." 

"  Pray  go  on,"  said  Harold,  expecting  something 
unpleasant. 

"  I  'm  not  going  to  speak  against  treating  voters," 
said  Felix  ;  "  I  suppose  buttered  ale,  and  grease  of 
that  sort  to  make  the  wheels  go,  belong  to  the  nec- 
essary humbug  of  Eepresentation.  But  I  wish  to 
ask  you,  Mr.  Transome,  whether  it  is  with  your 
knowledge  that  agents  of  yours  are  bribing  rough 
fellows  who  are  no  voters  —  the  colliers  and  nav- 
vies at  Sproxton  —  with  the  chance  of  extra  drunk- 
enness, that  they  may  make  a  posse  on  your  side  at 
the  nomination  and  polling  ?  " 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Harold.  "You  are  aware, 
my  dear  sir,  that  a  candidate  is  very  much  at  the 
mercy  of  his  agents  as  to  the  means  by  which  he  is 
returned,  especially  when  many  years'  absence  has 
made  him  a  stranger  to  the  men  actually  conduct- 
ing business.     But  are  you  sure  of  your  facts  ?  " 

"  As  sure  as  my  senses  can  make  me,"  said  Felix, 
who  then  briefly  described  what  had  happened  on 
Sunday.  "  I  believed  that  you  were  ignorant  of  all 
this,  Mr.  Transome,"  he  ended,  "  and  that  was  why 
I  thought  some  good  might  be  done  by  speaking  to 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  251 

you.  If  not,  I  should  be  tempted  to  expose  the 
whole  affair  as  a  disgrace  to  the  Eadical  party. 
I  'm  a  Eadical  myself,  and  mean  to  work  all  my 
life  long  against  privilege,  monopoly,  and  oppres- 
sion. But  I  would  rather  be  a  livery-servant  proud 
of  my  master's  title,  than  I  would  seem  to  make 
common  cause  with  scoundrels  who  turn  the  best 
hopes  of  men  into  bywords  for  cant  and  dis- 
honesty." 

"  Your  energetic  protest  is  needless  here,  sir," 
said  Harold,  offended  at  what  sounded  like  a  threat, 
and  was  certainly  premature  enough  to  be  in  bad 
taste.  In  fact,  this  error  of  behaviour  in  Felix  pro- 
ceeded from  a  repulsion  which  was  mutual.  It  was 
a  constant  source  of  irritation  to  him  that  the 
public  men  on  his  side  were,  on  the  whole,  not 
conspicuously  better  than  the  public  men  on  the 
other  side ;  that  the  spirit  of  innovation,  which 
with  him  was  a  part  of  religion,  was  in  many  of 
its  mouthpieces  no  more  of  a  religion  than  the  faith 
in  rotten  boroughs ;  and  he  was  thus  predisposed 
to  distrust  Harold  Transome.  Harold,  in  his  turn, 
disliked  impracticable  notions  of  loftiness  and  purity, 
—  disliked  all  enthusiasm  ;  and  he  thought  he  saw 
a  very  troublesome,  vigorous  incorporation  of  that 
nonsense  in  Felix.  But  it  would  be  foolish  to  exas- 
perate him  in  any  way. 

"If  you  choose  to  accompany  me  to  Jermyn's 
office,"  he  went  on,  "the  matter  shall  be  inquired 
into  in  your  presence.  I  think  you  will  agree  with 
me,  Mr.  Lyon,  that  this  will  be  the  most  satisfactory 
course  ?  " 

"Doubtless,"  said  the  minister,  who  liked  the 
candidate  very  well,  and  believed  that  he  would 
be  amenable  to   argument;  "and  I  would  caution 


252  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

my  young  friend  against  a  too  great  hastiness  of 
words  and  action.  David's  cause  against  Saul  was 
a  righteous  one;  nevertheless  not  all  who  clave 
unto  David  were  righteous  men." 

"The  more  was  the  pity,  sir,"  said  Felix,  "es- 
pecially if  he  winked  at  their  malpractices." 

Mr.  Lyon  smiled,  shook  his  head,  and  stroked  his 
favourite's  arm  deprecatingly. 

"  It  is  rather  too  much  for  any  man  to  keep  the 
consciences  of  all  his  party,"  said  Harold.  "  If  you 
had  lived  in  the  East,  as  I  have,  you  would  be  more 
tolerant.  More  tolerant,  for  example,  of  an  active, 
industrious  selfishness,  such  as  we  have  here, 
though  it  may  not  always  be  quite  scrupulous; 
you  would  see  how  much  better  it  is  than  an  idle 
selfishness.  I  have  heard  it  said,  a  bridge  is  a  good 
thing,  —  worth  helping  to  make,  though  half  the 
men  who  worked  at  it  were  rogues." 

"  Oh,  yes ! "  said  Felix,  scornfully,  "  give  me  a 
handful  of  generalities  and  analogies,  and  I'll  un- 
dertake to  justify  Burke  and  Hare,  and  prove  them 
benefactors  of  their  species.  I  '11  tolerate  no  nui- 
sances but  such  as  I  can't  help ;  and  the  question 
now  is,  not  whether  we  can  do  away  with  all  the 
nuisances  in  the  world,  but  with  a  particular  nui- 
sance under  our  noses." 

"  Then  we  had  better  cut  the  matter  short,  as  I 
propose,  by  going  at  once  to  Jermyn's,"  said  Harold. 
"In  that  case  I  must  bid  you  good-morning,  Mr. 
Lyon." 

"  I  would  fain,"  said  the  minister,  looking  uneasy, 
—  "I  would  fain  have  had  a  further  opportunity  of 
considering  that  question  of  the  ballot  with  you. 
The  reasons  against  it  need  not  be  urged  lengthily  ; 
they  only  require  complete  enumeration  to  prevent 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  253 

any  seeming  hiatus,  where  an  opposing  fallacy 
might  thrust  itself  in." 

"  Never  fear,  sir,"  said  Harold,  shaking  Mr.  Lyon's 
hand  cordially,  "  there  will  be  opportunities.  Shall 
I  not  see  you  in  the  committee-room  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  rubbing  his  brow, 
with  a  sad  remembrance  of  his  personal  anxieties ; 
"  but  I  will  send  you,  if  you  will  permit  me,  a  brief 
writing,  on  which  you  can  meditate  at  your  leisure." 

"  I  shall  be  delighted.     Good-by." 

Harold  and  Felix  went  out  together ;  and  the 
minister,  going  up  to  his  dull  study,  asked  himself 
whether,  under  the  pressure  of  conflicting  experi- 
ence, he  had  faithfully  discharged  the  duties  of  the 
past  interview? 

If  a  cynical  sprite  were  present,  riding  on  one  of 
the  motes  in  that  dusty  room,  he  may  have  made 
himself  merry  at  the  illusions  of  the  little  minister 
who  brought  so  much  conscience  to  bear  on  the  pro- 
duction of  so  slight  an  effect.  I  confess  to  smiling 
myself,  being  sceptical  as  to  the  effect  of  ardent 
appeals  and  nice  distinctions  on  gentlemen  who  are 
got  up,  both  inside  and  out,  as  candidates  in  the 
style  of  the  period  ;  but  I  never  smiled  at  Mr.  Lyon's 
trustful  energy  without  falling  to  penitence  and 
veneration  immediately  after.  For  what  we  call 
illusions  are  often,  in  truth,  a  wider  vision  of  past 
and  present  realities,  —  a  willing  movement  of  a 
man's  soul  with  the  larger  sweep  of  the  world's 
forces,  —  a  movement  towards  a  more  assured  end 
than  the  chances  of  a  single  life.  We  see  human 
heroism  broken  into  units,  and  say  this  unit  did 
little,  —  might  as  well  not  have  been.  But  in  this 
way  we  might  break  up  a  great  army  into  units  ;  in 
this  way  we  might  break  the  sunlight  into   frag- 


254  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

ments,  and  think  that  this  and  the  other  might  be 
cheaply  parted  with.  Let  us  rather  raise  a  monument 
to  the  soldiers  whose  brave  hearts  only  kept  the 
ranks  unbroken,  and  met  death,  —  a  monument  to 
the  faithful  who  were  not  famous,  and  who  are 
precious  as  the  continuity  of  the  sunbeams  is  pre- 
cious, though  some  of  them  fall  unseen  and  on 
barrenness. 

At  present,  looking  back  on  that  day  at  Treby,  it 
seems  to  me  that  the  sadder  illusion  lay  with  Harold 
Transome,  who  was  trusting  in  his  own  skill  to 
shape  the  success  of  his  own  morrows,  ignorant  of 
what  many  yesterdays  had  determined  for  him 
beforehand. 


CHAPTEK  XVIL 

It  is  a  good  and  soothfast  saw  : 
Half -roasted  never  will  be  raw ; 
No  dough  is  dried  once  more  to  meal, 
No  crock  new-shapeu  by  the  wheel ; 
You  can't  turn  curds  to  milk  again, 
Nor  Now,  by  wishing,  back  to  Then ; 
And  haviug  tasted  stolen  honey, 
You  can't  buy  innocence  for  money. 

Jermyn  was  not  particularly  pleased  that  some 
chance  had  apparently  hindered  Harold  Transome 
from  making  other  canvassing  visits  immediately 
after  leaving  Mr.  Lyon,  and  so  had  sent  him  back 
to  the  office  earlier  than  he  had  been  expected  to 
come.  The  inconvenient  chance  he  guessed  at  once 
to  be  represented  by  Felix  Holt,  whom  he  knew 
very  well  by  Trebian  report  to  be  a  young  man  with 
so  little  of  the  ordinary  Christian  motives  as  to 
making  an  appearance  and  getting  on  in  the  world, 
that  he  presented  no  handle  to  any  judicious  and 
respectable  person  who  might  be  willing  to  make 
use  of  him. 

Harold  Transome,  on  his  side,  was  a  good  deal 
annoyed  at  being  worried  by  Felix  into  an  inquiry 
about  electioneering  details.  The  real  dignity  and 
honesty  there  was  in  him  made  him  shrink  from 
this  necessity  of  satisfying  a  man  with  a  trouble- 
some tongue ;  it  was  as  if  he  were  to  show  indigna- 
tion  at  the  discovery  of  one  barrel  with  a  false 


2?6  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

bottom,  when  he  had  invested  his  money  in  a  manu- 
factory where  a  larger  or  smaller  number  of  such 
barrels  had  always  been  made.  A  practical  man  must 
seek  a  good  end  by  the  only  possible  means ;  that  is  to 
say,  if  he  is  to  get  into  Parliament  he  must  not  be 
too  particular.  It  was  not  disgraceful  to  be  neither 
a  Quixote  nor  a  theorist,  aiming  to  correct  the  moral 
rules  of  the  world ;  but  whatever  actually  was,  or 
might  prove  to  be,  disgraceful,  Harold  held  in  de- 
testation. In  this  mood  he  pushed  on  unceremoni- 
ously to  the  inner  office  without  waiting  to  ask 
questions ;  and  when  he  perceived  that  Jermyn  was 
not  alone,  he  said,  with  haughty  quickness,  — 

"  A  question  about  the  electioneering  at  Sproxton. 
Can  you  give  your  attention  to  it  at  once  ?  Here  is 
Mr.  Holt,  who  has  come  to  me  about  the  business." 

"A  —  yes  —  a  —  certainly,"  said  Jermyn,  who, 
as  usual,  was  the  more  cool  and  deliberate  because 
he  was  vexed.  He  was  standing,  and,  as  he  turned 
round,  his  broad  figure  concealed  the  person  who 
was  seated  writing  at  the  bureau.  "  Mr.  Holt  —  a 
—  will  doubtless  —  a  —  make  a  point  of  saving  a 
busy  man's  time.  You  can  speak  at  once.  This 
gentleman  "  —  here  Jermyn  made  a  slight  backward 
movement  of  the  head  —  "  is  one  of  ourselves  ;  he 
is  a  true-blue." 

"  I  have  simply  to  complain,"  said  Felix,  "  that 
one  of  your  agents  has  been  sent  on  a  bribing  ex- 
pedition to  Sproxton,  —  with  what  purpose  you, 
sir,  may  know  better  than  I  do.  Mr.  Transome,  it 
appears,  was  ignorant  of  the  affair,  and  does  not 
approve  it." 

Jermyn,  looking  gravely  and  steadily  at  Felix 
while  he  was  speaking,  at  the  same  time  drew  forth 
a  small  sheaf  of  papers  from  his  side-pocket,  and 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  257 

then,  as  he  turned  his  eyes  slowly  on  Harold,  felt 
in  his  waistcoat-pocket  for  his  pencil-case. 

"  I  don't  approve  it  at  all,"  said  Harold,  who  hated 
Jermyn's  calculated  slowness  and  conceit  in  his 
own  impenetrability.  "Be  good  enough  to  put  a 
stop  to  it,  will  you  ? " 

"  Mr.  Holt,  I  know,  is  an  excellent  Liberal,"  said 
Jermyn,  just  inclining  his  head  to  Harold,  and  then 
alternately  looking  at  Felix  and  docketing  his  bills ; 
"  but  he  is  perhaps  too  inexperienced  to  be  aware 
that  no  canvass  —  a  —  can  be  conducted  without 
the  action  of  able  men,  who  must  —  a  —  be  trusted, 
and  not  interfered  with.  And  as  to  any  possibility 
of  promising  to  put  a  stop  —  a  —  to  any  procedure, 
—  a  —  that  depends.  If  he  had  ever  held  the 
coachman's  ribbons  in  his  hands,  as  I  have  in  my 
younger  days,  —  a  —  he  would  know  that  stopping 
is  not  always  easy." 

"  I  know  very  little  about  holding  ribbons,"  said 
Felix ;  "  but  I  saw  clearly  enough  at  once  that  more 
mischief  had  been  done  than  could  be  well  mended. 
Though  I  believe,  if  it  were  heartily  tried,  the 
treating  might  be  reduced,  and  something  might  be 
done  to  hinder  the  men  from  turning  out  in  a  body 
to  make  a  noise,  which  might  end  in  worse." 

"  They  might  be  hindered  from  making  a  noise 
on  our  side,"  said  Jermyn,  smiling.  "  That  is  per- 
fectly true.  But  if  they  made  a  noise  on  the  other, 
would  your  purpose  be  answered  better,  sir  ?  " 

Harold  was  moving  about  in  an  irritated  manner 
while  Felix  and  Jermyn  were  speaking.  He  pre- 
ferred leaving  the  talk  to  the  attorney,  of.  whose 
talk  he  himself  liked  to  keep  as  clear  as  possible. 

"  I  can  only  say,"  answered  Felix,  "  that  if  you 
make  use  of  those  heavy  fellows  when  tb.3  drink  is 
vol.  1.  — 17 


258  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

in  them,  I  should  n't  like  your  responsibility.  You 
might  as  well  drive  bulls  to  roar  on  our  side  as 
bribe  a  set  of  colliers  and  navvies  to  shout  and 
groan." 

"  A  lawyer  may  well  envy  your  command  of  lan- 
guage, Mr.  Holt,"  said  Jermyn,  pocketing  his  bills 
again,  and  shutting  up  his  pencil ;  "  but  he  would 
not  be  satisfied  with  the  accuracy  —  a  —  of  your 
terms.  You  must  permit  me  to  check  your  use  of 
the  word  '  bribery.'  The  essence  of  bribery  is  that 
it  should  be  legally  proved;  there  is  not  such  a 
thing  —  a  —  in  rerum  natura  —  a  —  as  unproved 
bribery.  There  has  been  no  such  thing  as  bribery 
at  Sproxton,  I  '11  answer  for  it.  The  presence  of  a 
body  of  stalwart  fellows  on  —  a  —  the  Liberal  side 
will  tend  to  preserve  order  ;  for  we  know  that  the 
benefit  clubs  from  the  Pitchley  district  will  show 
for  Debarry.  Indeed,  the  gentleman  who  has  con- 
ducted the  canvass  at  Sproxton  is  experienced  in 
parliamentary  affairs,  and  would  not  exceed  —  a  — 
the  necessary  measures  that  a  rational  judgment 
would  dictate." 

"What!  you  mean  the  man  who  calls  himself 
Johnson  ? "  said  Felix,  in  a  tone  of  disgust. 

Before  Jermyn  chose  to  answer,  Harold  broke  in, 
saying  quickly  and  peremptorily  :  "  The  long  and  the 
short  of  it  is  this,  Mr.  Holt:  I  shall  desire  and 
insist  that  whatever  can  be  done  by  way  of  remedy 
shall  be  done.  Will  that  satisfy  you  ?  You  see 
now  some  of  a  candidate's  difficulties  ? "  said 
Harold,  breaking  into  his  most  agreeable  smile. 
"I  hope  you  will  have  some  pity  for  me." 

"I  suppose  I  must  be  content,"  said  Felix,  not 
thoroughly  propitiated.  "  I  bid  you  scood-moming, 
gentlemen." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  259 

When  he  was  gone  out,  and  had  closed  the  door 
behind  him,  Harold,  turning  round  and  flashing,  in 
spite  of  himself,  an  angry  look  at  Jermyn,  said,  — 

"  And  who  is  Johnson  ?  an  alias,  I  suppose.  It 
seems  you  are  fond  of  the  name." 

Jermyn  turned  perceptibly  paler ;  but  disagreea- 
bles of  this  sort  between  himself  and  Harold  had 
been  too  much  in  his  anticipations  of  late  for  him 
to  be  taken  by  surprise.  He  turned  quietly  round, 
and  just  touched  the  shoulder  of  the  person  seated 
at  the  bureau,  who  now  rose. 

"  On  the  contrary,"  Jermyn  answered,  "  the 
Johnson  in  question  is  this  gentleman,  whom  I 
have  the  pleasure  of  introducing  to  you  as  one  of 
my  most  active  helpmates  in  electioneering  business, 

—  Mr.  Johnson,  of  Bedford  Kow,  London.  I  am 
comparatively  a  novice  —  a  —  in  these  matters.  But 
he  was  engaged  with  James  Putty  in  two  hardly 
contested  elections,  and  there  could  scarcely  be 
a  better  initiation.  Putty  is  one  of  the  first  men 
of  the  country  as  an  agent  —  a  —  on  the  Liberal 
side  —  a  —  eh,  Johnson  ?  I  think  Makepiece  is  — 
a  —  not  altogether  a  match  for  him,  not  quite  of 
the  same  calibre  —  a  —  haud  consimili  ingenio  —  a 

—  in  tactics  —  a  —  and  in  experience  ? " 

"  Makepiece  is  a  wonderful  man,  and  so  is  Putty," 
said  the  glib  Johnson,  too  vain  not  to  be  pleased 
with  an  opportunity  of  speaking,  even  when  the 
situation  was  rather  awkward.  "Makepiece  for 
scheming,  but  Putty  for  management.  Putty  knows 
men,  sir,"  he  went  on,  turning  to  Harold;  "it's  a 
thousand  pities  that  you  have  not  had  his  talents 
employed  in  your  service.  He's  beyond  any  man 
for  saving  a  candidate's  money,  —  does  half  the 
work   with   his   tongue.     He'll  talk   of    anything, 


26o  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

from  the  Areopagus,  and  that  sort  of  thing,  down 
to  the  joke  about  '  Where  are  you  going,  Paddy  ? ' 
—  you  know  what  I  mean,  sir  !  '  Back  again,  says 
Paddy,'  —  an  excellent  electioneering  joke.  Putty 
understands  these  things.  He  has  said  to  me, 
'  Johnson,  bear  in  mind  there  are  two  ways  of 
speaking  an  audience  will  always  like  :  one  is  to  tell 
them  what  they  don't  understand  ;  and  the  other  is 
to  tell  them  what  they  're  used  to.'  I  shall  never 
be  the  man  to  deny  that  I  owe  a  great  deal  to  Putty. 
I  always  say  it  was  a  most  providential  thing  in 
the  Mugham  election  last  year  that  Putty  was  not 
on  the  Tory  side.  He  managed  the  women ;  and 
if  you'll  believe  me,  sir,  one  fourth  of  the  men 
would  never  have  voted  if  their  wives  had  n't 
driven  them  to  it  for  the  good  of  their  families. 
And  as  for  speaking,  —  it 's  currently  reported  in 
our  London  circles  that  Putty  writes  regularly  for 
the  '  Times.'  He  has  that  kind  of  language  ;  and 
I  needn't  tell  you,  Mr.  Transome,  that  it's  the 
apex,  which,  I  take  it,  means  the  tiptop,  —  and 
nobody  can  get  higher  than  that,  I  think.  I  've 
belonged  to  a  political  debating  society  myself; 
I  've  heard  a  little  language  in  my  time  ;  but  when 
Mr.  Jermyn  first  spoke  to  me  about  having  the 
honour  to  assist  in  your  canvass  of  North  Loam- 
shire,"  —  here  Johnson  played  with  his  watch-seals 
and  balanced  himself  a  moment  on  his  toes,  —  "  the 
very  first  thing  I  said  was,  '  And  there  's  Garstin 
has  got  Putty  !  No  Whig  could  stand  against  a 
Whig,'  I  said, '  who  had  Putty  on  his  side :  I  hope 
Mr.  Transome  goes  in  for  something  of  a  deeper 
colour.'  I  don't  say  that,  as  a  general  rule,  opinions 
go  for  much  in  a  return,  Mr.  Transome  ;  it  depends 
on  who  are  in  the  field  before  you,  and  on  the  skill 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  261 

of  your  agents.  But  as  a  Radical,  and  a  moneyed 
Radical,  you  are  in  a  fine  position,  sir;  and  with 
care  and  judgment  —  with  care  and  judgment  —  " 

It  had  been  impossible  to  interrupt  Johnson  be- 
fore without  the  most  impolitic  rudeness.  Jermyn 
was  not  sorry  that  he  should  talk,  even  if  he  made 
a  fool  of  himself ;  for  in  that  solid  shape,  exhibiting 
the  average  amount  of  human  foibles,  he  seemed 
less  of  the  alias  which  Harold  had  insinuated  him 
to  be,  and  had  all  the  additional  plausibility  of  a 
lie  with  a  circumstance. 

Harold  had  thrown  himself  with  contemptuous 
resignation  into  a  chair,  had  drawn  off  one  of  his 
buff  gloves,  and  was  looking  at  his  hand.  But  when 
Johnson  gave  his  iteration  with  a  slightly  slackened 
pace,  Harold  looked  up  at  him  and  broke  in,  — 

"  Well  then,  Mr.  Johnson,  I  shall  be  glad  if  you 
will  use  your  care  and  judgment  in  putting  an  end, 
as  well  as  you  can,  to  this  Sproxton  affair ;  else  it 
may  turn  out  an  ugly  business." 

"  Excuse  me,  sir  ;  I  must  beg  you  to  look  at  the 
matter  a  little  more  closely.  You  will  see  that  it 
is  impossible  to  take  a  single  step  backward  at 
Sproxton.  It  was  a  matter  of  necessity  to  get  the 
Sproxton  men ;  else  I  know  to  a  certainty  the  other 
side  would  have  laid  hold  of  them  first,  and  now 
I  've  undermined  Garstin's  people.  They  '11  use 
their  authority,  and  give  a  little  shabby  treating, 
but  I  've  taken  all  the  wind  out  of  their  sails.  But 
if,  by  your  orders,  I  or  Mr.  Jermyn  here  were  to 
break  promise  with  the  honest  fellows,  and  offend 
Chubb  the  publican,  what  would  come  of  it? 
Chubb  would  leave  no  stone  unturned  against  you, 
sir ;  he  would  egg  on  his  customers  against  you ; 
the  colliers  and  navvies  would  be  at  the  nomina* 


262  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

tion  and  at  the  election  all  the  same,  or  rather  not 
all  the  same,  for  they  would  be  there  against  us; 
and  instead  of  hustling  people  good-humouredly  by 
way  of  a  joke,  and  counterbalancing  Debarry's 
cheers,  they'd  help  to  kick  the  cheering  and  the 
voting  out  of  our  men,  and  instead  of  being,  let  us 
say,  half-a-dozen  ahead  of  Garstin,  you  'd  be  half-a- 
dozen  behind  him,  that 's  all.  I  speak  plain  English 
to  you,  Mr.  Transome,  though  I've  the  highest 
respect  for  you  as  a  gentleman  of  first-rate  talents 
and  position.  But,  sir,  to  judge  of  these  things,  a 
man  must  know  the  English  voter  and  the  English 
publican ;  and  it  would  be  a  poor  tale  indeed  "  — 
here  Mr.  Johnson's  mouth  took  an  expression  at 
once  bitter  and  pathetic  —  "  that  a  gentleman  like 
you,  to  say  nothing  of  the  good  of  the  country, 
should  have  gone  to  the  expense  and  trouble  of  a 
canvass  for  nothing  but  to  find  himself  out  of 
Parliament  at  the  end  of  it.  I  've  seen  it  again  and 
again ;  it  looks  bad  in  the  cleverest  man  to  have  to 
sing  small." 

Mr.  Johnson's  argument  was  not  the  less  stringent 
because  his  idioms  were  vulgar.  It  requires  a  con- 
viction and  resolution  amounting  to  heroism  not  to 
wince  at  phrases  that  class  our  foreshadowed  endur- 
ance among  those  common  and  ignominious  troubles 
which  the  world  is  more  likely  to  sneer  at  than  to 
pity.  Harold  remained  a  few  moments  in  angry 
silence  looking  at  the  floor,  with  one  hand  on  his 
knee  and  the  other  on  his  hat,  as  if  he  were  pre- 
paring to  start  up. 

"  As  to  undoing  anything  that 's  been  done  down 
there,"  said  Johnson,  throwing  in  this  observation 
as  something  into  the  bargain,  "  I  must  wash  my 
hands  of  it,  sir.    I  could  n't  work  knowingly  against 


.FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  263 

your  interest.  And  that  young  man  who  has  just 
gone  out,  —  you  don't  believe  that  he  need  be 
listened  to,  I  hope  ?  Chubb  the  publican  hates 
him.  Chubb  would  guess  he  was  at  the  bottom  of 
your  having  the  treating  stopped,  and  he  'd  set  half- 
a-dozen  of  the  colliers  to  duck  him  in  the  canal,  or 
break  his  head  by  mistake.  I  'm  an  experienced 
man,  sir.     I  hope  I  've  put  it  clear  enough." 

"Certainly,  the  exposition  befits  the  subject," 
said  Harold,  scornfully,  his  dislike  of  the  man 
Johnson's  personality  being  stimulated  by  causes 
which  Jermyn  more  than  conjectured.  "  It 's  a 
damned  unpleasant,  ravelled  business  that  you  and 
Mr.  Jermyn  have  knit  up  between  you.  I  've  no 
more  to  say." 

"  Then,  sir,  if  you  've  no  more  commands,  I  don't 
wish  to  intrude.  I  shall  wish  you  good-morning, 
sir,"  said  Johnson,  passing  out  quickly. 

Harold  knew  that  he  was  indulging  his  temper, 
and  he  would  probably  have  restrained  it  as  a  fool- 
ish move  if  he  had  thought  there  was  great  danger 
in  it.  But  he  was  beginning  to  drop  much  of  his 
caution  and  self-mastery  where  Jermyn  was  con- 
cerned, under  the  growing  conviction  that  the  attor- 
ney had  very  strong  reasons  for  being  afraid  of 
him,  —  reasons  which  would  only  be  reinforced  by 
any  action  hostile  to  the  Transome  interest.  As  for 
a  sneak  like  this  Johnson,  a  gentleman  had  to  pay 
him,  not  to  please  him.  Harold  had  smiles  at 
command  in  the  right  place,  but  he  was  not  going 
to  smile  when  it  was  neither  necessary  nor  agree- 
able. He  was  one  of  those  good-humoured  yet  ener- 
getic men,  who  have  the  gift  of  anger,  hatred,  and 
scorn  upon  occasion,  though  they  are  too  healthy 
and  self-contented  for  such  feelings  to  get  generated 


264  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

in  them  without  external  occasion ;  and  in  relation 
to  Jermyn  the  gift  was  coming  into  fine  exercise. 

"A  —  pardon  me,  Mr.  Harold,"  said  Jermyn, 
speaking  as  soon  as  Johnson  went  out,  "  but  I  am 
sorry  —  a  —  you  should  behave  disobligingly  to  a 
man  who  has  it  in  his  power  to  do  much  service,  — 
who,  in  fact,  holds  many  threads  in  his  hands.  I 
admit  that  —  a  —  nemo  mortalium  omnibus  horis 
sapit,  as  we  say  —  a  —  " 

"  Speak  for  yourself,"  said  Harold.  "  I  don't  talk 
in  tags  of  Latin,  which  might  be  learned  by  a 
schoolmaster's  footboy.  I  find  the  King's  English 
express  my  meaning  better." 

"  In  the  King's  English,  then,"  said  Jermyn,  who 
could  be  idiomatic  enough  when  he  was  stung,  "  a- 
candidate  should  keep  his  kicks  till  he 's  a  member." 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  Johnson  will  bear  a  kick  if  you 
bid  him.     You're  his  principal,  I  believe." 

"  Certainly,  thus  far  —  a  —  he  is  my  London  agent. 
But  he  is  a  man  of  substance,  and  —  " 

"I  shall  know  what  he  is  if  it's  necessary,  I  dare 
say.  But  I  must  jump  into  the  carriage  again. 
I  've  no  time  to  lose ;  I  must  go  to  Hawkins  at  the 
factory.     Will  you  go  ? " 

When  Harold  was  gone,  Jermyn' s  handsome  face 
gathered  blackness.  He  hardly  ever  wore  his  worst 
expression  in  the  presence  of  others,  and  but  seldom 
when  he  was  alone,  for  he  was  not  given  to  believe 
that  any  game  would  ultimately  go  against  him. 
His  luck  had  been  good.  New  conditions  might 
always  turn  up  to  give  him  new  chances  ;  and  if 
affairs  threatened  to  come  to  an  extremity  between 
Harold  and  himself,  he  trusted  to  finding  some  sure 
resource. 

"  He  means  to  see  to  the  bottom  of  everything  if 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  265 

he  can,  that's  quite  plain,"  said  Jermyn  to  himself. 
"  I  believe  he  has  been  getting  another  opinion ;  he 
has  some  new  light  about  those  annuities  on  the 
estate  that  are  held  in  Johnson's  name.  He  has 
inherited  a  deuced  faculty  for  business,  —  there's 
no  denying  that.  But  I  shall  beg  leave  to  tell  him 
that  I've  propped  up  the  family.  I  don't  know 
where  they  would  have  been  without  me ;  and  if  it 
comes  to  balancing,  I  know  into  which  scale  the 
gratitude  ought  to  go.  Not  that  he 's  likely  to  feel 
any,  —  but  he  can  feel  something  else;  and  if  he 
makes  signs  of  setting  the  dogs  on  me,  I  shall  make 
him  feel  it.  The  people  named  Transome  owe  me 
a  good  deal  more  than  I  owe  them." 

In  this  way  Mr.  Jermyn  inwardly  appealed  against 
an  unjust  construction  which  he  foresaw  that  his 
old  acquaintance  the  Law  might  put  on  certain 
items  in  his  history. 

I  have  known  persons  who  have  been  suspected 
of  undervaluing  gratitude,  and  excluding  it  from 
the  list  of  virtues ;  but  on  closer  observation  it  has 
been  seen  that  if  they  have  never  felt  grateful,  it 
has  been  for  want  of  an  opportunity ;  and  that,  far 
from  despising  gratitude,  they  regard  it  as  the  virtue 
most  of  all  incumbent  —  on  others  towards  them. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

The  little,  nameless,  unremembered  acts 
Of  kindness  and  of  love. 

Wordsworth  :  Tintern  Abbey. 

Jermyn  did  not  forget  to  pay  his  visit  to  the  minis- 
ter in  Malthouse  Yard  that  evening.  The  mingled 
irritation,  dread,  and  defiance  which  he  was  feeling 
towards  Harold  Transome  in  the  middle  of  the  day- 
depended  on  too  many  and  far-stretching  causes  to 
be  dissipated  by  eight  o'clock;  but  when  he  left 
Mr.  Lyon's  house  he  was  in  a  state  of  comparative 
triumph  in  the  belief  that  he,  and  he  alone,  was  now 
in  possession  of  facts  which,  once  grouped  together, 
made  a  secret  that  gave  him  new  power  over 
Harold. 

Mr.  Lyon,  in  his  need  for  help  from  one  who  had 
that  wisdom  of  the  serpent  which,  he  argued,  is  not 
forbidden,  but  is  only  of  hard  acquirement  to  dove- 
like innocence,  had  been  gradually  led  to  pour  out 
to  the  attorney  all  the  reasons  which  made  him 
desire  to  know  the  truth  about  the  man  who  called 
himself  Maurice  Christian :  he  had  shown  all  the 
precious  relics,  the  locket,  the  letters,  and  the 
marriage  certificate.  And  Jermyn  had  comforted 
him  by  confidently  promising  to  ascertain,  without 
scandal  or  premature  betrayals,  whether  this  man 
were  really  Annette's  husband  Maurice  Christian 
Bycliffe. 


JTELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  267 

Jermyn  was  not  rash  in  making  this  promise, 
since  he  had  excellent  reasons  for  believing  that  he 
had  already  come  to  a  true  conclusion  on  the 
subject  But  he  wished  both  to  know  a  little  more 
of  this  man  himself,  and  to  keep  Mr.  Lyon  in 
ignorance  —  not  a  difficult  precaution  —  in  an  affair, 
which  it  cost  the  minister  so  much  pain  to  speak 
of.  An  easy  opportunity  of  getting  an  interview 
with  Christian  was  sure  to  offer  itself  before  long,  — 
might  even  offer  itself  to-morrow.  Jermyn  had 
seen  him  more  than  once,  though  hitherto  without 
any  reason  for  observing  him  with  interest ;  he  had 
heard  that  Philip  Debarry's  courier  was  often  busy 
in  the  town,  and  it  seemed  especially  likely  that 
he  would  be  seen  there  when  the  Market  was  to  be 
agitated  by  politics,  and  the  new  candidate  was  to 
show  his  paces. 

The  world  of  which  Treby  Magna  was  the  centre 
was  naturally  curious  to  see  the  young  Transome, 
who  had  come  from  the  East,  was  as  rich  as  a  Jew, 
and  called  himself  a  Eadical,  —  characteristics  all 
equally  vague  in  the  minds  of  various  excellent 
rate-payers,  who  drove  to  market  in  their  taxed 
carts  or  in  their  hereditary  gigs.  Places  at  con- 
venient windows  had  been  secured  beforehand  for  a 
few  best  bonnets  ;  but,  in  general,  a  Eadical  candi- 
date excited  no  ardent  feminine  partisanship,  even 
among  the  Dissenters  in  Treby,  if  they  were  of  the 
prosperous  and  long-resident  class.  Some  chapel- 
going  ladies  were  fond  of  remembering  that  "  their 
family  had  been  Church ;  "  others  objected  to  poli- 
tics altogether  as  having  spoiled  old  neighbourliness, 
and  sundered  friends  who  had  kindred  views  as  to 
cowslip  wine  and  Michaelmas  cleaning ;  others,  of 
the  melancholy  sort,  said  it  would  be  well  if  people 


268  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

would  think  less  of  reforming  Parliament  and 
more  of  pleasing  God.  Irreproachable  Dissenting 
matrons,  like  Mrs.  Muscat,  whose  youth  had  been 
passed  in  a  short- waisted  bodice  and  tight  skirt,  had 
never  been  animated  by  the  struggle  for  liberty,  and 
had  a  timid  suspicion  that  religion  was  desecrated 
by  being  applied  to  the  things  of  this  world.  Since 
Mr.  Lyon  had  been  in  Malthouse  Yard  there  had 
been  far  too  much  mixing  up  of  politics  with 
religion  ;  but  at  any  rate,  these  ladies  had  never  yet 
been  to  hear  speechifying  in  the  market-place,  and 
they  were  not  going  to  begin  that  practice. 

Esther,  however,  had  heard  some  of  her  feminine 
acquaintances  say  that  they  intended  to  sit  at  the 
druggist's  upper  window,  and  she  was  inclined  to 
ask  her  father  if  he  could  think  of  a  suitable  place 
where  she  also  might  see  and  hear.  Two  incon- 
sistent motives  urged  her.  She  knew  that  Felix 
cared  earnestly  for  all  public  questions,  and  she 
supposed  that  he  held  it  one  of  her  deficiencies  not 
to  care  about  them ;  well,  she  would  try  to  learn 
the  secret  of  this  ardour,  which  was  so  strong  in 
him  that  it  animated  what  she  thought  the  dullest 
form  of  life.  She  was  not  too  stupid  to  find  it  out. 
But  this  self-correcting  motive  was  presently  dis- 
placed by  a  motive  of  a  different  sort.  It  had  been 
a  pleasant  variety  in  her  monotonous  days  to  see  a 
man  like  Harold  Transome,  with  a  distinguished 
appearance  and  polished  manners,  and  she  would  like 
to  see  him  again  :  he  suggested  to  her  that  brighter 
and  more  luxurious  life  on  which  her  imagination 
dwelt  without  the  painful  effort  it  required  to  con- 
ceive the  mental  condition  which  would  place  her 
in  complete  sympathy  with  Felix  Holt.  It  was 
this  less  unaccustomed  prompting  of  which  she  was 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  269 

chiefly  conscious  when  she  awaited  her  father's 
coming  down  to  breakfast.  Why,  indeed,  should 
she  trouble  herself  so  much  about  Felix? 

Mr.  Lyon,  more  serene  now  that  he  had  un- 
bosomed his  anxieties  and  obtained  a  promise  of 
help,  was  already  swimming  so  happily  in  the  deep 
water  of  polemics  in  expectation  of  Philip  Debarry's 
answer  to  his  challenge,  that,  in  the  occupation  of 
making  a  few  notes  lest  certain  felicitous  inspi- 
rations should  be  wasted,  he  had  forgotten  to  come 
down  to  breakfast.  Esther,  suspecting  his  abstrac- 
tion, went  up  to  his  study,  and  found  him  at  his  desk 
looking  up  with  wonder  at  her  interruption. 

"  Come,  father,  you  have  forgotten  your  breakfast." 

"  It  is  true,  child ;  I  will  come,"  he  said,  lingering 
to  make  some  final  strokes. 

**  Oh,  you  naughty  father ! "  said  Esther,  as  he 
got  up  from  his  chair,  "  your  coat-collar  is  twisted, 
your  waist-coat  is  buttoned  all  wrong,  and  you 
have  not  brushed  your  hair.  Sit  down  and  let  me 
brush  it  again  as  I  did  yesterday." 

He  sat  down  obediently,  while  Esther  took  a 
towel,  which  she  threw  over  his  shoulders,  and 
then  brushed  the  thick  long  fringe  of  soft  auburn 
hair.  This  very  trifling  act,  which  she  had  brought 
herself  to  for  the  first  time  yesterday,  meant  a  great 
deal  in  Esther's  little  history.  It  had  been  her 
habit  to  leave  the  mending  of  her  father's  clothes 
to  Lyddy ;  she  had  not  liked  even  to  touch  his  cloth 
garments ;  still  less  had  it  seemed  a  thing  she 
would  willingly  undertake  to  correct  his  toilet, 
and  use  a  brush  for  him.  But  having  once  done 
this,  under  her  new  sense  of  faulty  omission,  the 
affectionateness  that  was  in  her  flowed  so  pleas- 
antly, as  she  saw  how  much  her  father  was  moved 


270  FELIX  HOLT,   THE  RADICAL. 

by  what  he  thought  a  great  act  of  tenderness,  that 
she  quite  longed  to  repeat  it.  This  morning,  as  he 
sat  under  her  hands,  his  face  had  such  a  calm  de- 
light in  it  that  she  could  not  help  kissing  the  top 
of  his  bald  head  ;  and  afterwards,  when  they  were 
seated  at  breakfast,  she  said  merrily,  — 

"  Father,  I  shall  make  a  petit  maitre  of  you  by 
and  by  ;  your  hair  looks  so  pretty  and  silken  when 
it  is  well  brushed." 

"  Nay,  child,  I  trust  that  while  I  would  willingly 
depart  from  my  evil  habit  of  a  somewhat  slovenly 
forgetfulness  in  my  attire,  I  shall  never  arrive  at 
the  opposite  extreme.  For  though  there  is  that  in 
apparel  which  pleases  the  eye,  and  I  deny  not 
that  your  neat  gown  and  the  colour  thereof,  — 
which  is  that  of  certain  little  flowers  that  spread 
themselves  in  the  hedgerows,  and  make  a  blueness 
there  as  of  the  sky  when  it  is  deepened  in  the 
water,  —  I  deny  not,  I  say,  that  these  minor  striv- 
ings after  a  perfection  which  is  as  it  were  an 
irrecoverable  yet  haunting  memory,  are  a  good  in 
their  proportion.  Nevertheless,  the  brevity  of  our 
life,  and  the  hurry  and  crush  of  the  great  battle 
with  error  and  sin,  often  oblige  us  to  an  advised 
neglect  of  what  is  less  momentous.  This,  I  con- 
ceive, is  the  principle  on  which  my  friend  Felix 
Holt  acts ;  and  I  cannot  but  think  the  light  comes 
from  the  true  fount,  though  it  shines  through 
obstructions." 

"  You  have  not  seen  Mr.  Holt  since  Sunday,  have 
you,  father  ? " 

"  Yes ;  he  was  here  yesterday.  He  sought  Mr. 
Transome,  having  a  matter  of  some  importance  to 
speak  upon  with  him.  And  I  saw  him  afterward 
in  the  street,  when  he  agreed  that  I  should  call 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  271 

for  him  this  morning  before  I  go  into  the  market- 
place. He  will  have  it,"  Mr.  Lyon  went  on, 
smiling,  "  that  I  must  not  walk  about  in  the  crowd 
without  him  to  act  as  my  special  constable." 

Esther  felt  vexed  with  herself  that  her  heart  was 
suddenly  beating  with  unusual  quickness,  and  that 
her  last  resolution  not  to  trouble  herself  about  what 
Felix  thought,  had  transformed  itself  with  magic 
swiftness  into  mortification  that  he  evidently 
avoided  coming  to  the  house  when  she  was  there, 
though  he  used  to  come  on  the  slightest  occasion.  He 
knew  that  she  was  always  at  home  until  the  after- 
noon on  market-days  ;  that  was  the  reason  why  he 
would  not  call  for  her  father.  Of  course,  it  was 
because  he  attributed  such  littleness  to  her  that  he 
supposed  she  would  retain  nothing  else  than  a  feel- 
ing of  offence  towards  him  for  what  he  had  said  to 
her.  Such  distrust  of  any  good  in  others,  such 
arrogance  of  immeasurable  superiority,  was  ex- 
tremely ungenerous.     But  presently  she  said, — 

"  I  should  have  liked  to  hear  Mr.  Transome 
speak,  but  I  suppose  it  is  too  late  to  get  a  place 
now." 

"  I  am  not  sure  ;  I  would  fain  have  you  go  if  you 
desire  it,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Lyon,  who  could  not 
bear  to  deny  Esther  any  lawful  wish.  "  Walk 
with  me  to  Mistress  Holt's,  and  we  will  learn 
from  Felix,  who  will  doubtless  already  have  been 
out,  whether  he  could  lead  you  in  safety  to  Friend 
Lambert's." 

Esther  was  glad  of  the  proposal,  because,  if  it 
answered  no  other  purpose,  it  would  be  an  easy  way 
of  obliging  Felix  to  see  her,  and  of  showing  him 
that  it  was  not  she  who  cherished  offence.  But 
when,  later  in  the  morning,  she  was  walking  towards 


273  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Mrs.  Holt's  with  her  father,  they  met  Mr.  Jermyn, 
who  stopped  them  to  ask,  in  his  most  affable  man- 
ner, whether  Miss  Lyon  intended  to  hear  the  can- 
didate, and  whether  she  had  secured  a  suitable 
place.  And  he  ended  by  insisting  that  his  daugh- 
ters, who  were  presently  coming  in  an  open  carriage, 
should  call  for  her,  if  she  would  permit  them.  It 
was  impossible  to  refuse  this  civility;  and  Esther 
turned  back  to  await  the  carriage,  pleased  with  the 
certainty  of  hearing  and  seeing,  yet  sorry  to  miss 
Eelix.  There  was  another  day  for  her  to  think  of 
him  with  unsatisfied  resentment,  mixed  with  some 
longings  for  a  better  understanding ;  and  in  our 
spring-time  every  day  has  its  hidden  growths  in  the 
mind,  as  it  has  in  the  earth  when  the  little  folded 
blades  are  getting  ready  to  pierce  the  ground. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Consistency  1  —  I  never  changed  my  mind, 
Which  is,  and  always  was,  to  live  at  ease. 

It  was  only  in  the  time  of  the  summer  fairs  that 
the  market-place  had  ever  looked  more  animated 
than  it  did  under  that  autumn  mid-day  sun.  There 
were  plenty  of  blue  cockades  and  streamers,  faces 
at  all  the  windows,  and  a  crushing  buzzing  crowd, 
urging  each  other  backwards  and  forwards  round 
the  small  hustings  in  front  of  the  Ram  Inn,  which 
showed  its  more  plebeian  sign  at  right  angles  with 
the  venerable  Marquis  of  Granby.  Sometimes  there 
were  scornful  shouts,  sometimes  a  rolling  cascade 
of  cheers,  sometimes  the  shriek  of  a  penny  whistle ; 
but  above  all  these  fitful  and  feeble  souDds,  the  fine 
old  church-tower,  which  looked  down  from  above 
the  trees  on  the  other  side  of  the  narrow  stream, 
sent  vibrating,  at  every  quarter,  the  sonorous  tones 
of  its  great  bell,  the  Good  Queen  Bess. 

Two  carriages,  with  blue  ribbons  on  the  harness, 
were  conspicuous  near  the  hustings.  One  was 
Jermyn's,  filled  with  the  brilliantly  attired  daugh- 
ters, accompanied  by  Esther,  whose  quieter  dress 
helped  to  mark  her  out  for  attention  as  the  most 
striking  of  the  group.  The  other  was  Harold  Tran- 
some's  ;  but  in  this  there  was  no  lady,  —  only  the 
olive-skinned  Dominic,  whose  acute  yet  mild  face 
was  brightened  by  the  occupation  of  amusing  little 

VOL.  I.  — 18 


374  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Harry  and  rescuing  from  his  tyrannies  a  King 
Charles  puppy,  with  big  eyes,  much  after  the  pat- 
tern of  the  boy's. 

This  Trebian  crowd  did  not  count  for  much  in 
the  political  force  of  the  nation,  but  it  was  not  the 
less  determined  as  to  lending  or  not  lending  its  ears. 
No  man  was  permitted  to  speak  from  the  platform 
except  Harold  and  his  uncle  Lingon,  though,  in  the 
interval  of  expectation,  several  Liberals  had  come 
forward.  Among  these  ill-advised  persons  the  one 
whose  attempt  met  the  most  emphatic  resistance 
was  Eufus  Lyon.  This  might  have  been  taken  for 
resentment  at  the  unreasonableness  of  the  cloth, 
that,  not  content  with  pulpits  from  whence  to 
tyrannize  over  the  ears  of  men,  wishes  to  have  the 
larger  share  of  the  platforms  ;  but  it  was  not  so, 
for  Mr.  Lingon  was  heard  with  much  cheering,  and 
would  have  been  welcomed  again. 

The  Eector  of  Little  Treby  had  been  a  favourite 
in  the  neighbourhood  since  the  beginning  of  the 
century.  A  clergyman  thoroughly  unclerical  in  his 
habits  had  a  piquancy  about  him  which  made  him 
a  sort  of  practical  joke.  He  had  always  been  called 
Jack  Lingon,  or  Parson  Jack,  —  sometimes,  in  older 
and  less  serious  days,  even  "  Cock-fighting  Jack." 
He  swore  a  little  when  the  point  of  a  joke  seemed 
to  demand  it,  and  was  fond  of  wearing  a  coloured 
bandana  tied  loosely  over  his  cravat,  together  with 
large  brown  leather  leggings ;  he  spoke  in  a  pithy, 
familiar  way  that  people  could  understand,  and  had 
none  of  that  frigid  mincingness  called  dignity, 
which  some  have  thought  a  peculiar  clerical  dis- 
ease. In  fact,  he  was  "  a  charicter,"  —  something 
cheerful  to  think  of,  not  entirely  out  of  connection 
with  Sunday  and  sermons.     And  it  seemed  in  keep- 


EELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  275 

ing  that  he  should  have  turned  sharp  round  in 
politics,  his  opinions  being  only  part  of  the  excel- 
lent joke  called  Parson  Jack.  When  his  red  eagle 
face  and  white  hair  were  seen  on  the  platform,  the 
Dissenters  hardly  cheered  this  questionable  Radi- 
cal ;  but  to  make  amends,  all  the  Tory  farmers  gave 
him  a  friendly  "  hurray."  "  Let 's  hear  what  old 
Jack  will  say  for  himself,"  was  the  predominant 
feeling  among  them ;  "  he  '11  have  something  funny 
to  say,  I  '11  bet  a  penny." 

It  was  only  Lawyer  Labron's  young  clerks  and 
their  hangers-on  who  were  sufficiently  dead  to 
Trebian  traditions  to  assail  the  parson  with  various 
sharp-edged  interjections,  such  as  broken  shells, 
and  cries  of  "Cock-a-doodle-doo!" 

"Come  now,  my  lads,"  he  began,  in  his  full, 
pompous,  yet  jovial  tones,  thrusting  his  hands  into 
the  stuffed-out  pockets  of  his  great-coat,  "  I  '11  tell 
you  what;  I'm  a  parson,  you  know;  I  ought  to 
return  good  for  evil.  So  here  are  some  good  nuts 
for  you  to  crack  in  return  for  your  shells." 

There  was  a  roar  of  laughter  and  cheering  as  he 
threw  handfuls  of  nuts  and  filberts  among  the 
crowd. 

"  Come  now,  you  '11  say  I  used  to  be  a  Tory ;  and 
some  of  you,  whose  faces  I  know  as  well  as  I  know 
the  head  of  my  own  crab-stick,  will  say  that's  why 
I  'm  a  good  fellow.  But  now  I  '11  tell  you  some- 
thing else.  It 's  for  that  very  reason  —  that  I  used 
to  be  a  Tory,  and  am  a  good  fellow  —  that  I  go 
along  with  my  nephew  here,  who  is  a  thorough- 
going Liberal.  For  will  anybody  here  come  for- 
ward and  say,  '  A  good  fellow  has  no  need  to  tack 
about  and  change  his  road '  ?  No,  there 's  not  one 
of  you  such  a  Tom-noddy.     What's  good  for  one 


276  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

time  is  bad  for  another.  If  anybody  contradicts 
that,  ask  him  to  eat  pickled  pork  when  he 's  thirsty, 
and  to  bathe  in  the  Lapp  there  when  the  spikes  of 
ice  are  shooting.  And  that's  the  reason  why  the 
men  who  are  the  best  Liberals  now  are  the  very 
men  who  used  to  be  the  best  Tories.  There  is  n't 
a  nastier  horse  than  your  horse  that'll  jib  and  back 
and  turn  round  when  there  is  but  one  road  for  him 
to  go,  and  that's  the  road  before  him. 

"And  my  nephew  here,  —  he  comes  of  a  Tory 
breed,  you  know,  —  I'll  answer  for  the  Lingons. 
In  the  old  Tory  times  there  was  never  a  pup  be- 
longing to  a  Lingon  but  would  howl  if  a  Whig 
came  near  him.  The  Lingon  blood  is  good,  rich, 
old  Tory  blood,  —  like  good  rich  milk,  —  and  that 's 
why,  when  the  right  time  comes,  it  throws  up  a 
Liberal  cream.  The  best  sort  of  Tory  turns  to  the 
best  sort  of  Radical.  There 's  plenty  of  Radical 
scum,  —  I  say,  beware  of  the  scum,  and  look  out  for 
the  cream.  And  here 's  my  nephew,  —  some  of  the 
cream,  if  there  is  any ;  none  of  your  Whigs,  none  of 
your  painted  water  that  looks  as  if  it  ran,  and  it 's 
standing  still  all  the  while ;  none  of  your  spinning- 
jenny  fellows.  A  gentleman ;  but  up  to  all  sorts 
of  business.  I'm  no  fool  myself;  I'm  forced  to 
wink  a  good  deal,  for  fear  of  seeing  too  much,  for  a 
neighbourly  man  must  let  himself  be  cheated  a 
little.  But  though  I  've  never  been  out  of  my  own 
country,  I  know  less  about  it  than  my  nephew  does. 
You  may  tell  what  he  is,  and  only  look  at  him. 
There 's  one  sort  of  fellow  sees  nothing  but  the  end 
of  his  own  nose,  and  another  sort  that  sees  nothing 
but  the  hinder  side  of  the  moon ;  but  my  nephew 
Harold  is  of  another  sort ;  he  sees  everything  that 's 
at  hitting  distance,  and  he 's  not  one  to  miss  his 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  277 

mark.  A  good-looking  man  in  his  prime !  Not  a 
greenhorn ;  not  a  shrivelled  old  fellow,  who  '11  come 
to  speak  to  you  and  find  he  's  left  his  teeth  at  home 
by  mistake.  Harold  Transome  will  do  you  credit ; 
if  anybody  says  the  Eadicals  are  a  set  of  sneaks, 
Brummagem  halfpennies,  scamps  who  want  to  play 
pitch-and-toss  with  the  property  of  the  country,  you 
can  say,  '  Look  at  the  member .  for  North  Loam- 
shire  ! '  And  mind  what  you  '11  hear  him  say ; 
he'll  go  in  for  making  everything  right,  —  Poor- 
laws  and  Charities  and  Church,  —  he  wants  to 
reform 'em  all.  Perhaps  you '11  say,  'There's  that 
Parson  Lingon  talking  about  Church  Eeform, — 
why,  he  belongs  to  the  Church  himself,  —  he  wants 
reforming  too.'  Well,  well,  wait  a  bit,  and  you  '11 
hear  by  and  by  that  old  Parson  Lingon  is  reformed, 
—  shoots  no  more,  cracks  his  joke  no  more,  has 
drunk  his  last  bottle:  the  dogs,  the  old  pointers, 
will  be  sorry ;  but  you  '11  hear  that  the  Parson  at 
Little  Treby  is  a  new  man.  That 's  what  Church 
Eeform  is  sure  to  come  to  before  long.  So  now 
here  are  some  more  nuts  for  you,  lads,  and  I  leave 
you  to  listen  to  your  candidate.  Here  he  is,  —  give 
him  a  good  hurray ;  wave  your  hats,  and  I  '11  begin. 
Hurray!" 

Harold  had  not  been  quite  confident  beforehand 
as  to  the  good  effect  of  his  uncle's  introduction ; 
but  he  was  soon  reassured.  There  was  no  acrid 
partisanship  among  the  old-fashioned  Tories  who 
mustered  strong  about  the  Marquis  of  Granby,  and 
Parson  Jack  had  put  them  in  a  good  humour. 
Harold's  only  interruption  came  from  his  own 
party.  The  oratorical  clerk  at  the  Factory,  acting 
as  the  tribune  of  the  Dissenting  interest,  and  feel- 
ing bound    to    put   questions,   might    have    been 


278  ,  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

troublesome  ;  but  his  voice  being  unpleasantly 
sharp,  while  Harold's  was  full  and  penetrating,  the 
questioning  was  cried  down.  Harold's  speech 
"  did  "  :  it  was  not  of  the  glib-nonsensical  sort,  not 
ponderous,  not  hesitating,  —  which  is  as  much  as  to 
say  that  it  was  remarkable  among  British  speeches. 
Eead  in  print  the  next  day,  perhaps  it  would  be 
neither  pregnant  nor  conclusive,  which  is  saying  no 
more  than  that  its  excellence  was  not  of  an  abnor- 
mal kind,  but  such  as  is  usually  found  in  the  best 
efforts  of  eloquent  candidates.  Accordingly  the 
applause  drowned  the  opposition,  and  content 
predominated. 

But  perhaps  the  moment  of  most  diffusive  pleasure 
from  public  speaking  is  that  in  which  the  speech 
ceases  and  the  audience  can  turn  to  commenting  on 
it.  The  one  speech,  sometimes  uttered  under  great 
responsibility  as  to  missiles  and  other  conse- 
quences, has  given  a  text  to  twenty  speakers  who 
are  under  no  responsibility.  Even  in  the  days  of 
duelling  a  man  was  not  challenged  for  being  a 
bore,  nor  does  this  quality  apparently  hinder  him 
from  being  much  invited  to  dinner,  which  is  the 
great  index  of  social  responsibility  in  a  less  bar- 
barous age. 

Certainly  the  crowd  in  the  market-place  seemed 
to  experience  this  culminating  enjoyment  when  the 
speaking  on  the  platform  in  front  of  the  Earn  had 
ceased,  and  there  were  no  less  than  three  orators 
holding  forth  from  the  elevation  of  chance  vehicles, 
not  at  all  to  the  prejudice  of  the  talking  among 
those  who  were  on  a  level  with  their  neighbours. 
There  was  little  ill-humour  among  the  listeners, 
for  Queen  Bess  was  striking  the  last  quarter  before 
two,  and  a  savourv  smell  from  the  inn  kitchens  in- 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  279 

spired  them  with  an  agreeable  consciousness  that 
the  speakers  were  helping  to  trifle  away  the  brief 
time  before  dinner. 

Two  or  three  of  Harold's  committee  had  lingered 
talking  to  each  other  on  the  platform,  instead  of 
re-entering  ;  and  Jermyn,  after  coming  out  to  speak 
to  one  of  them,  had  turned  to  the  corner  near  which 
the  carriages  were  standing,  that  he  might  tell  the 
Transomes'  coachman  to  drive  round  to  the  side 
door,  and  signal  to  his  own  coachman  to  follow. 
But  a  dialogue  which  was  going  on  below  induced 
him  to  pause,  and  instead  of  giving  the  order,  to 
assume  the  air  of  a  careless  gazer.  Christian,  whom 
the  attorney  had  already  observed  looking  out  of  a 
window  at  the  Marquis  of  Granby,  was  talking  to 
Dominic.  The  meeting  appeared  to  be  one  of  new 
recognition,  for  Christian  was  saying, — 

"  You  Ve  not  got  gray  as  I  have,  Mr.  Lenoni ; 
you  're  not  a  day  older  for  the  sixteen  years.  But 
no  wonder  you  did  n't  know  me  ;  I  'm  bleached  like 
a  dried  bone." 

"  Not  so.  It  is  true  I  was  confused  a  meenute, 
—  I  could  put  your  face  nowhere  ;  but  after  that, 
Naples  came  behind  it,  and  I  said,  Mr.  Creestian. 
And  so  you  reside  at  the  Manor,  and  I  am  at  Tran- 
some  Court." 

"  Ah !  it 's  a  thousand  pities  you  're  not  on  our 
side,  else  we  might  have  dined  together  at  the 
Marquis,"  said  Christian.  "  Eh,  could  you  manage 
it  ? "  he  added  languidly,  knowing  there  was  no 
chance  of  a  yes. 

"  No,  —  much  obliged,  —  could  n't  leave  the  leetle 
boy.     Ahi  !  Arry,  Arry,  pinch  not  poor  Moro." 

While  Dominic  was  answering,  Christian  had 
stared  about  him,  as  his  manner  was  when  he  was 


28o  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

being  spoken  to,  and  had  had  his  eyes  arrested  by 
Esther,  who  was  leaning  forward  to  look  at  Mr. 
Harold  Transome's  extraordinary  little  gypsy  of  a 
son.  But  happening  to  meet  Christian's  stare,  she 
felt  annoyed,  drew  back,  and  turned  away  her  head, 
colouring. 

"  Who  are  those  ladies  ?  "  said  Christian,  in  a  low 
tone,  to  Dominic,  as  if  he  had  been  startled  into  a 
sudden  wish  for  this  information. 

"  They  are  Meester  Jermyn's  daughters,"  said 
Dominic,  who  knew  nothing  either  of  the  lawyer's 
family  or  of  Esther. 

Christian  looked  puzzled  a  moment  or  two,  and 
was  silent. 

"  Oh,  well  —  au  revoir,"  he  said,  kissing  the  tips  of 
his  fingers,  as  the  coachman,  having  had  Jermyn's 
order,  began  to  urge  on  the  horses. 

"  Does  he  see  some  likeness  in  the  girl  ? "  thought 
Jermyn,  as  he  turned  away.  "  I  wish  I  had  n't  in- 
vited her  to  come  in  the  carriage,  as  it  happens." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"Good  earthenware  pitchers,  sir! — of  an  excellent  quaint  pat- 
tern and  sombre  colour." 

The  market  dinner  at  the  Marquis  was  in  high 
repute  in  Treby  and  its  neighbourhood.  The  fre- 
quenters of  this  three-and-sixpenny  ordinary  liked 
to  allude  to  it,  as  men  allude  to  anything  which  im- 
plies that  they  move  in  good  society,  and  habitually 
converse  with  those  who  are  in  the  secret  of  the 
highest  affairs.  The  guests  were  not  only  such  ru- 
ral residents  as  had  driven  to  market,  but  some  of 
the  most  substantial  townsmen,  who  had  always  as- 
sured their  wives  that  business  required  this  weekly 
sacrifice  of  domestic  pleasure.  The  poorer  farmers, 
who  put  up  at  the  Ram  or  the  Seven  Stars,  where 
there  was  no  fish,  felt  their  disadvantage,  bearing  it 
modestly  or  bitterly,  as  the  case  might  be ;  and  al- 
though the  Marquis  was  a  Tory  house,  devoted  to 
Debarry,  it  was  too  much  to  expect  that  such  tenants 
of  the  Transomes  as  had  always  been  used  to  dine 
there,  should  consent  to  eat  a  worse  dinner,  and  sit 
with  worse  company,  because  they  suddenly  found 
themselves  under  a  Radical  landlord,  opposed  to  the 
political  party  known  as  Sir  Maxim's.  Hence  the 
recent  political  divisions  had  not  reduced  the  hand- 
some length  of  the  table  at  the  Marquis ;  and  the 
many  gradations  of  dignity  —  from  Mr.  "Wace,  the 


282  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

brewer,  to  the  rich  butcher  from  Leek  Malton,  who 
always  modestly  took  the  lowest  seat,  though  with- 
out the  reward  of  being  asked  to  come  up  higher  — 
had  not  been  abbreviated  by  any  secessions. 

To-day  there  was  an  extra  table  spread  for  ex- 
pected supernumeraries,  and  it  was  at  this  that 
Christian  took  his  place  with  some  of  the  younger 
farmers,  who  had  almost  a  sense  of  dissipation  in 
talking  to  a  man  of  his  questionable  station  and  un- 
known experience.  The  provision  was  especially 
liberal,  and  on  the  whole  the  presence  of  a  minority 
destined  to  vote  for  Transome  was  a  ground  for  jok- 
ing, which  added  to  the  good-humour  of  the  chief 
talkers.  A  respectable  old  acquaintance  turned  Rad- 
ical rather  against  his  will  was  rallied  with  even 
greater  gusto  than  if  his  wife  had  had  twins  twice 
over.  The  best  Trebian  Tories  were  far  too  sweet- 
blooded  to  turn  against  such  old  friends,  and  to 
make  no  distinction  between  them  and  the  Radical, 
Dissenting,  Papistical,  Deistical  set  with  whom  they 
never  dined,  and  probably  never  saw  except  in  their 
imagination.  But  the  talk  was  necessarily  in  abey- 
ance until  the  more  serious  business  of  dinner  was 
ended,  and  the  wine,  spirits,  and  tobacco  raised 
mere  satisfaction  into  beatitude. 

Among  the  frequent  though  not  regular  guests, 
whom  every  one  was  glad  to  see,  was  Mr.  Nolan,  the 
retired  London  hosier,  a  wiry  old  gentleman  past 
seventy,  whose  square  tight  forehead,  with  its  rigid 
hedge  of  gray  hair,  whose  bushy  eyebrows,  sharp 
dark  eyes,  and  remarkable  hooked  nose,  gave  a  hand- 
some distinction  to  his  face  in  the  midst  of  rural 
physiognomies.  He  had  married  a  Miss  Pendrell 
early  in  life,  when  he  was  a  poor  young  Londoner, 
and  the  match  had  been  thought  as  bad  as  ruin  by 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  283 

her  family ;  but  fifteen  years  ago  he  had  had  the 
satisfaction  of  bringing  his  wife  to  settle  amongst 
her  own  friends,  and  of  being  received  with  pride  as 
a  brother-in-law,  retired  from  business,  possessed  of 
unknown  thousands,  and  of  a  most  agreeable  talent 
for  anecdote  and  conversation  generally.  No  question 
had  ever  been  raised  as  to  Mr.  Nolan's  extraction  on 
the  strength  of  his  hooked  nose  or  of  his  name  be- 
ing Baruch.  Hebrew  names  "  ran  "  in  the  best  Saxon 
families  ;  the  Bible  accounted  for  them ;  and  no  one 
among  the  uplands  and  hedgerows  of  that  district 
was  suspected  of  having  an  Oriental  origin  unless  he 
carried  a  pedler's  jewel-box.  Certainly,  whatever 
genealogical  research  might  have  discovered,  the 
worthy  Baruch  Nolan  was  so  free  from  any  distinc- 
tive marks  of  religious  persuasion  —  he  went  to 
church  with  so  ordinary  an  irregularity,  and  so  often 
grumbled  at  the  sermon  —  that  there  was  no  ground 
for  classing  him  otherwise  than  with  good  Trebian 
Churchmen.  He  was  generally  regarded  as  a  good- 
looking  old  gentleman,  and  a  certain  thin  eagerness 
in  his  aspect  was  attributed  to  the  life  of  the  me- 
tropolis, where  narrow  space  had  the  same  sort  of 
effect  on  men  as  on  thickly  planted  trees.  Mr.  No- 
lan always  ordered  his  pint  of  port,  which,  after  he 
had  sipped  it  a  little,  was  wont  to  animate  his  rec- 
ollections of  the  Eoyal  Family,  and  the  various 
ministries  which  had  been  contemporary  with  the 
successive  stages  of  his  prosperity.  He  was  always 
listened  to  with  interest :  a  man  who  had  been  born 
in  the  year  when  good  old  King  George  came  to  the 
throne  —  who  had  been  acquainted  with  the  nude 
leg  of  the  Prince  Eegent,  and  hinted  at  private  rea- 
sons for  believing  that  the  Princess  Charlotte  ought 
not  to  have  died  —  had  conversational   matter  as 


284  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

special  to  his  auditors  as  Marco  Polo  could  have 
had  on  his  return  from  Asiatic  travel. 

"  My  good  sir,"  he  said  to  Mr.  Wace,  as  he  crossed 
his  knees  and  spread  his  silk  handkerchief  over 
them,  "  Transome  may  he  returned,  or  he  may  not 
be  returned,  —  that's  a  question  for  North  Loam- 
shire  ;  but  it  makes  little  difference  to  the  kingdom. 
I  don't  want  to  say  things  which  may  put  younger 
men  out  of  spirits,  but  I  believe  this  country  has 
seen  its  best  days,  —  I  do  indeed." 

"I  am  sorry  to  hear  it  from  one  of  your  expe- 
rience, Mr.  Nolan,"  said  the  brewer,  a  large  happy- 
looking  man.  "  I  'd  make  a  good  fight  myself  before 
I  'd  leave  a  worse  world  for  my  boys  than  I  've  found 
for  myself.  There  is  n't  a  greater  pleasure  than 
doing  a  bit  of  planting  and  improving  one's  build- 
ings, and  investing  one's  money  in  some  pretty 
acres  of  land,  when  it  turns  up  here  and  there,  — 
land  you  've  known  from  a  boy.  It 's  a  nasty 
thought  that  these  Eadicals  are  to  turn  things 
round  so  as  one  can  calculate  on  nothing.  One 
does  n't  like  it  for  one's  self,  and  one  does  n't  like  it 
for  one's  neighbours.  But  somehow  I  believe  it 
won't  do:  if  we  can't  trust  the  Government  just 
now,  there 's  Providence  and  the  good  sense  of  the 
country ;  and  there  's  a  right  in  things,  —  that 's 
what  I  've  always  said,  —  there  's  a  right  in  things. 
The  heavy  end  will  get  downmost.  And  if  Church 
and  King,  and  every  man  being  sure  of  his  own,  are 
things  good  for  this  country  there's  a  God  above 
will  take  care  of  'em." 

"  It  won't  do,  my  dear  sir,"  said  Mr.  Nolan,  —  "  it 
won't  do.  When  Peel  and  the  Duke  turned  round 
about  the  Catholics  in  '29,  I  saw  it  was  all  over 
with  us.     We  could  never  trust  ministers  any  more. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  285 

ft  was  to  keep  off  a  rebellion,  they  said ;  but  I  say 
it  was  to  keep  their  places.  They  're  monstrously 
fond  of  place,  both  of  them,  —  that  I  know."  Here 
Mr.  Nolan  changed  the  crossing  of  his  legs,  and 
gave  a  deep  cough,  conscious  of  having  made  a 
point.  Then  he  went  on  :  "  What  we  want  is  a 
king  with  a  good  will  of  his  own.  If  we  'd  had 
that,  we  shouldn't  have  heard  what  we've  heard 
to-day ;  Eeform  would  never  have  come  to  this 
pass.  When  our  good  old  King  George  the  Third 
heard  his  ministers  talking  about  Catholic  Emanci- 
pation, he  boxed  their  ears  all  round.  Ah,  poor 
soul !  he  did  indeed,  gentlemen,"  ended  Mr.  Nolan, 
shaken  by  a  deep  laugh  of  admiration. 

"  Well,  now,  that 's  something  like  a  king,"  said 
Mr.  Crowder,  who  was  an  eager  listener. 

"It  was  uncivil,  though.  How  did  they  take 
it  ? "  said  Mr.  Timothy  Eose,  a  "  gentleman  farmer  " 
from  Leek  Malton,  against  whose  independent  posi- 
tion Nature  had  provided  the  safeguard  of  a  sponta- 
neous servility.  His  large  porcine  cheeks,  round 
twinkling  eyes,  and  thumbs  habitually  twirling 
expressed  a  concentrated  effort  not  to  get  into 
trouble,  and  to  speak  everybody  fair  except  when 
they  were  safely  out  of  hearing. 

"  Take  it !  they  'd  be  obliged  to  take  it,"  said  the 
impetuous  young  Joyce,  a  farmer  of  superior  infor- 
mation. "Have  you  ever  heard  of  the  King's 
prerogative  ? " 

"  I  don't  say  but  what  I  have,"  said  Eose,  retreat- 
ing.    "  I  've  nothing  against  it,  —  nothing  at  alL" 

"  No,  but  the  Eadicals  have,"  said  young  Joyce, 
winking.  "  The  prerogative  is  what  they  want  to 
clip  close.  They  want  us  to  be  governed  by  dele- 
gates from  the  trades-unions,  who  are  to  dictate  tc 


286  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

everybody,  and  make  everything  square  to  their 
mastery." 

"  They  're  a  pretty  set,  now,  those  delegates,"  said 
Mr.  Wace,  with  disgust.  "  I  once  heard  two  of  'em 
spouting  away.  They  're  a  sort  of  fellow  I  'd  never 
employ  in  my  brewery,  or  anywhere  else.  I  've  seen 
it  again  and  again.  If  a  man  takes  to  tongue-work, 
it 's  all  over  with  him.  '  Everything  's  wrong,'  says 
he.  That 's  a  big  text.  But  does  he-  want  to  make 
everything  right  ?  Not  he.  He  'd  lose  his  text. 
'  We  want  every  man's  good,'  say  they.  Why,  they 
never  knew  yet  what  a  man's  good  is.  How  should 
they  ?  It 's  working  for  his  victual,  —  not  getting  a 
slice  of  other  people's." 

"Ay,  ay,"  said  young  Joyce,  cordially.  "I 
should  just  have  liked  all  the  delegates  in  the 
country  mustered  for  our  yeomanry  to  go  into,  — 
that 's  all.  They  'd  see  where  the  strength  of  Old 
England  lay  then.  You  may  tell  what  it  is  for  a 
country  to  trust  to  trade  when  it  breeds  such  spind- 
ling fellows  as  those." 

"  That  is  n't  the  fault  of  trade,  my  good  sir,"  said 
Mr.  Nolan,  who  was  often  a  little  pained  by  the  de- 
fects of  provincial  culture.  "  Trade,  properly  con- 
ducted, is  good  for  a  man's  constitution.  I  could 
have  shown  you,  in  my  time,  weavers  past  seventy, 
with  all  their  faculties  as  sharp  as  a  pen-knife,  do- 
ing without  spectacles.  It 's  the  new  system  of 
trade  that 's  to  blame  :  a  country  can't  have  too 
much  trade  if  it 's  properly  managed.  Plenty  of 
sound  Tories  have  made  their  fortune  by  trade. 
You  've  heard  of  Calibut  &  Co.,  —  everybody  has 
heard  of  Calibut.  Well,  sir,  I  knew  old  Mr.  Cali- 
but as  well  as  I  know  you.  He  was  once  a  crony 
of  mine  in  a  city  warehouse ;  and  now,  I  '11  answer 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  287 

Tor  it,  he  has  a  larger  rent-roll  than  Lord  Wyvern. 
Bless  your  soul !  his  subscriptions  to  charities  would 
make  a  fine  income  for  a  nobleman.  And  he  's  as 
good  a  Tory  as  I  am.  And  as  for  his  town  estab- 
lishment, —  why,  how  much  butter  do  you  think  is 
consumed  there  annually  ?  " 

Mr.  Nolan  paused,  and  then  his  face  glowed  with 
triumph  as  he  answered  his  own  question :  "  Why, 
gentlemen,  not  less  than  two  thousand  pounds  of 
butter  during  the  few  months  the  family  is  in 
town  !  Trade  makes  property,  my  good  sir,  and 
property  is  Conservative,  as  they  say  now.  Cali- 
but's  son-in-law  is  Lord  Fortinbras.  He  paid  me 
a  large  debt  on  his  marriage.  It 's  all  one  web,  sir. 
The  prosperity  of  the  country  is  one  web." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  Christian,  who,  smoking  his 
cigar  with  his  chair  turned  away  from  the  table, 
was  willing  to  make  himself  agreeable  in  the  con- 
versation. "  "We  can't  do  without  nobility.  Look 
at  France.  When  they  got  rid  of  the  old  nobles, 
they  were  obliged  to  make  new." 

"  True,  very  true,"  said  Mr.  Nolan,  who  thought 
Christian  a  little  too  wise  for  his  position,  but  could 
not  resist  the  rare  gift  of  an  instance  in  point.  "  It 's 
the  French  Eevolution  that  has  done  us  harm  here. 
It  was  the  same  at  the  end  of  the  last  century,  but 
the  war  kept  it  off,  —  Mr.  Pitt  saved  us.  I  knew 
Mr.  Pitt.  I  had  a  particular  interview  with  him 
once.  He  joked  me  about  getting  the  length  of  his 
foot.  '  Mr.  Nolan,'  said  he,  '  there  are  those  on  the 
other  side  of  the  water  whose  name  begins  with  N. 
who  would  be  glad  to  know  what  you  know.'  I 
was  recommended  to  send  an  account  of  that  to  the 
newspapers  after  his  death,  poor  man !  but  I  'm  not 
fond  of  that  kind  of  show  myself."      Mr.   Nolan 


288  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

swung  his  upper  leg  a  little,  and  pinched  his  lip 
between  his  thumb  and  finger,  naturally  pleased 
with  his  own  moderation. 

"  No,  no,  —  very  right,"  said  Mr.  Wace,  cordially. 
"  But  you  never  said  a  truer  word  than  that  about 
property.  If  a  man  's  got  a  bit  of  property,  a  stake 
in  the  country,  he  '11  want  to  keep  things  square. 
Where  Jack  is  n't  safe,  Tom 's  in  danger.  But 
that 's  what  makes  it  such  an  uncommonly  nasty 
thing  that  a  man  like  Transome  should  take  up 
with  these  Eadicals.  It 's  my  belief  he  does  it 
only  to  get  into  Parliament ;  he  '11  turn  round 
when  he  gets  there.  Come,  Dibbs,  there  's  some- 
thing to  put  you  in  spirits,"  added  Mr.  Wace,  rais- 
ing his  voice  a  little  and  looking  at  a  guest  lower 
down.  "  You  've  got  to  vote  for  a  Eadical  with 
one  side  of  your  mouth,  and  make  a  wry  face  with 
the  other ;  but  he  '11  turn  round  by  and  by.  As 
Parson  Jack  says,  he  's  got  the  right  sort  of  blood 
in  him." 

"I  don't  care  two  straws  who  I  vote  for,"  said 
Dibbs,  sturdily.  "  I  'm  not  going  to  make  a  wry 
face.  It  stands  to  reason  a  man  should  vote  for  his 
landlord.  My  farm  's  in  good  condition,  and  I've 
got  the  best  pasture  on  the  estate.  The  rot 's  never 
come  nigh  me.  Let  them  grumble  as  are  on  the 
wrong  side  of  the  hedge." 

"  I  wonder  if  Jermyn  '11  bring  him  in,  though," 
said  Mr.  Sircome,  the  great  miller.  "He's  an  un- 
common fellow  for  carrying  things  through.  I 
know  he  brought  me  through  that  suit  about  my 
weir;  it  cost  a  pretty  penny,  but  he  brought  me 
through." 

"It's  a  bit  of  a  pill  for  him,  too,  having  to  turn 
Eadical,"  said  Mr.  Wace.     "  They  say  he  counted  on 


EELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  289 

making  friends  with  Sir  Maximus,  by  this   young 
one  coming  home  and  joining  with  Mr.  Philip." 

"But  I'll  bet  a  penny  he  brings  Transome  in," 
said  Mr.  Sircome.  "  Folks  say  he  has  n't  got  many 
votes  hereabout ;  but  towards  Duffield,  and  all 
there,  where  the  Radicals  are,  everybody  's  for  him. 
Eh,  Mr.  Christian  ?  Come,  —  you  're  at  the  foun- 
tain-head, —  what  do  they  say  about  it  now  at  the 
Manor  ? " 

When  general  attention  was  called  to  Christian, 
young  Joyce  looked  down  at  his  own  legs  and 
touched  the  curves  of  his  own  hair,  as  if  measuring 
his  own  approximation  to  that  correct  copy  of  a 
gentleman.  Mr.  Wace  turned  his  head  to  listen 
for  Christian's  answer  with  that  tolerance  of  in- 
feriority which  becomes  men  in  places  of  public 
resort. 

"  They  think  it  will  be  a  hard  run  between  Tran- 
some and  Garstin,"  said  Christian.  "  It  depends 
on  Transome's  getting  plumpers." 

"  Well,  I  know  I  shall  not  split  for  Garstin,"  said 
Mr.  Wace.  "  It 's  nonsense  for  Debarry's  voters  to 
split  for  a  Whig.  A  man  's  either  a  Tory  or  not 
a  Tory." 

"  It  seems  reasonable  there  should  be  one  of  each 
side,"  said  Mr.  Timothy  Rose.  "  I  don't  like  show- 
ing favour  either  way.  If  one  side  can't  lower  the 
poor's  rates  and  take  off  the  tithe,  let  the  other  try." 

"  But  there 's  this  in  it,  Wace,"  said  Mr.  Sircome. 
"  I  'm  not  altogether  against  the  Whigs.  For  they 
don't  want  to  go  so  far  as  the  Radicals  do,  and 
when  they  find  they  've  slipped  a  bit  too  far,  they  '11 
hold  on  all  the  tighter.  And  the  Whigs  have  got 
the  upper  hand  now,  and  it 's  no  use  fighting  with 
the  current.  I  run  with  the  —  " 
you  1.  — 19 


290  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Mr.  Sircome  checked  himself,  looked  furtively 
at  Christian,  and,  to  divert  criticism,  ended  with,  — 
"Eh,  Mr.  Nolan?" 

"  There  have  been  eminent  Whigs,  sir.  Mr.  Fox 
was  a  Whig,"  said  Mr.  Nolan.  "  Mr.  Fox  was  a 
great  orator.  He  gambled  a  good  deal.  He  was 
very  intimate  with  the  Prince  of  Wales.  I  've  seen 
him,  and  the  Duke  of  York  too,  go  home  by  day- 
light with  their  hats  crushed.  Mr.  Fox  was  a  great 
leader  of  Opposition  :  Government  requires  an  Oppo- 
sition. The  Whigs  should  always  be  in  opposition, 
and  the  Tories  on  the  ministerial  side.  That 's 
what  the  country  used  to  like.  'The  Whigs  for 
salt  and  mustard,  the  Tories  for  meat,'  Mr.  Gottlib 
the  banker  used  to  say  to  me.  Mr.  Gottlib  was 
a  worthy  man.  When  there  was  a  great  run  on 
Gottlib's  bank  in  '16,  I  saw  a  gentleman  come  in 
with  bags  of  gold,  and  say,  '  Tell  Mr.  Gottlib  there 's 
plenty  more  where  that  came  from.'  It  stopped  the 
run,  gentlemen,  —  it  did  indeed." 

This  anecdote  was  received  with  great  admiration  ; 
but  Mr.  Sircome  returned  to  the  previous  question. 

"  There  now,  you  see,  Wace,  —  it 's  right  there 
should  be  Whigs  as  well  as  Tories,  —  Pitt  and  Fox, 
—  I  've  always  heard  them  go  together." 

"Well,  I  don't  like  Garstin,"  said  the  brewer. 
"  I  did  n't  like  his  conduct  about  the  Canal  Com- 
pany. Of  the  two,  I  like  Transome  best.  If  a 
nag  is  to  throw  me,  I  say,  let  him  have  some 
blood." 

"As  for  blood,  Wace,"  said  Mr.  Salt,  the  wool- 
factor,  a  bilious  man,  who  only  spoke  when  there 
was  a  good  opportunity  of  contradicting,  "  ask  my 
brother-in-law  Labron  a  little  about  that.  These 
Transomes  are  not  the  old  blood." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  291 

"  Well,  they  're  the  oldest  that 's  forthcoming,  I 
suppose,"  said  Mr.  Wace,  laughing.  "  Unless  you 
believe  in  mad  old  Tommy  Trounsem.  I  wonder 
where  that  old  poaching  fellow  is  now." 

"I  saw  him  half-drunk  the  other  day,"  said 
young  Joyce.  "  He  'd  got  a  flag-basket  with  hand- 
bills in  it  over  his  shoulder." 

"I  thought  the  old  fellow  was  dead,"  said  Mr. 
"Wace.  "  Hey !  why,  Jermyn,"  he  went  on  merrily, 
as  he  turned  round  and  saw  the  attorney  entering ; 
"you  Radical !  how  dare  you  show  yourself  in  this 
Tory  house  ?  Come,  this  is  going  a  bit  too  far. 
We  don't  mind  Old  Harry  managing  our  law  for  us, 

—  that 's  his  proper  business  from  time  immemo- 
rial; but  —  " 

"  But  —  a  —  "  said  Jermyn,  smiling,  always  ready 
to  carry  on  a  joke,  to  which  his  slow  manner  gave 
the  piquancy  of  surprise,  "  if  he  meddles  with  poli- 
tics he  must  be  a  Tory." 

Jermyn  was  not  afraid  to  show  himself  anywhere 
in  Treby.  He  knew  many  people  were  not  exactly 
fond  of  him ;  but  a  man  can  do  without  that,  if  he 
is  prosperous.  A  provincial  lawyer  in  those  old- 
fashioned  days  was  as  independent  of  personal 
esteem  as  if  he  had  been  a  Lord  Chancellor. 

There  was  a  good-humoured  laugh  at  this  upper 
end  of  the  room  as  Jermyn  seated  himself  at  about 
an  equal  angle  between  Mr.  Wace  and  Christian. 

"  We  were  talking  about  old  Tommy  Trounsem ; 
you  remember  him  ?  They  say  he 's  turned  up 
again,"  said  Mr.  Wace. 

"  Ah  ?  "    said    Jermyn,   indifferently.     "  But  —  a 

—  Wace  —  I  'm  very  busy  to-day  —  but  I  wanted 
to  see  you  about  that  bit  of  land  of  yours  at  the 
corner  of   Pod's  End.     I've  had  a  handsome  offer 


292  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

for  you,  —  I  'm  not  at  liberty  to  say  from  whom,  — 
but  an  offer  that  ought  to  tempt  you." 

"It  won't  tempt  me,"  said  Mr.  Wace,  peremp- 
torily ;  "  if  I  've  got  a  bit  of  land,  I  '11  keep  it.  It 's 
hard  enough  to  get  hereabouts." 

"Then  I'm  to  understand  that  you  refuse  all 
negotiation  ? "  said  Jermyn,  who  had  ordered  a 
glass  of  sherry,  and  was  looking  round  slowly  as 
he  sipped  it,  till  his  eyes  seemed  to  rest  for  the 
first  time  on  Christian,  though  he  had  seen  him  at 
once  on  entering  the  room. 

"  Unless  one  of  the  confounded  railways  should 
come.  But  then  I  '11  stand  out  and  make  'em  bleed 
for  it." 

There  was  a  murmur  of  approbation  ;  the  rail- 
ways were  a  public  wrong  much  denunciated  in 
Treby. 

"A  —  Mr.  Philip  Debarry  at  the  Manor  now  ? " 
said  Jermyn,  suddenly  questioning  Christian,  in  a 
haughty  tone  of  superiority  which  he  often  chose 
to  use. 

"  No,"  said  Christian ;  "  he  is  expected  to-morrow 
morning." 

"  Ah  !  —  "  Jermyn  paused  a  moment  or  two,  and 
then  said,  "You  are  sufficiently  in  his  confidence, 
I  think,  to  carry  a  message  to  him  with  a  small 
document  ? " 

"  Mr.  Debarry  has  often  trusted  me  so  far,"  said 
Christian,  with  much  coolness  ;  "  but  if  the  business 
is  yours,  you  can  probably  find  some  one  you  know 
better." 

There  was  a  little  winking  and  grimacing  among 
those  of  the  company  who  heard  this  answer. 

"A  —  true  —  a,"  said  Jermyn,  not  showing  any 
offence ;  "  if  you  decline.     But  I  think,  if  you  will 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  293 

do  me  the  favour  to  step  round  to  my  residence  on 
your  way  back,  and  learn  the  business,  you  will 
prefer  carrying  it  yourself.  At  my  residence,  if  you 
please,  —  not  my  office." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  Christian.  "  I  shall  be 
very  happy."  Christian  never  allowed  himself  to 
be  treated  as  a  servant  by  any  one  but  his  master, 
and  his  master  treated  a  servant  more  deferentially 
than  an  equal. 

"  Will  it  be  five  o'clock  ?  What  hour  shall  we 
say  ? "  said  Jermyn. 

Christian  looked  at  his  watch  and  said,  "  About 
five  I  can  be  there." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Jermyn,  finishing  his  sherry. 

"  Well  —  a  —  Wace  —  a  —  so  you  will  hear  noth- 
ing about  Pod's  End  ? " 

"  Not  I." 

"A  mere  pocket-handkerchief,  not  enough  to 
swear  by  —  a  —  "  here  Jermyn' s  face  broke  into  a 
smile  —  "without  a  magnifying-glass." 

"Never  mind.  It's  mine  into  the  bowels  of  the 
earth  and  up  to  the  sky.  I  can  build  the  Tower  of 
Babel  on  it  if  I  like,  —  eh,  Mr.  Nolan  ? " 

"  A  bad  investment,  my  good  sir,"  said  Mr.  Nolan, 
who  enjoyed  a  certain  flavour  of  infidelity  in  this 
smart  reply,  and  laughed  much  at  it  in  his  inward 
way. 

"  See  now,  how  blind  you  Tories  are  ! "  said  Jer- 
myn, rising ;  "  if  I  had  been  your  lawyer,  I  'd  have 
had  you  make  another  forty-shilling  freeholder  with 
that  land,  and  all  in  time  for  this  election.  But  — 
a  —  the  verbum  sajoientibus  comes  a  little  too  late 
now." 

Jermyn  was  moving  away  as  he  finished  speak- 


294  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

ing,  but  Mr.  Wace  called  out  after  him,  "  We  're  not 
so  badly  off  for  votes  as  you  are,  —  good  sound  votes, 
that'll  stand  the  Kevising  Barrister.  Debarry  at 
the  top  of  the  poll!" 

The  lawyer  was  already  out  of  the  doorway. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

T  is  grievous  that  with  all  amplification  of  travel  both  by  sea 
and  land,  a  man  can  never  separate  himself  from  his  past  history. 

Mr.  Jermyn's  handsome  house  stood  a  little  way 
out  of  the  town,  surrounded  by  garden  and  lawn 
and  plantations  of  hopeful  trees.  As  Christian  ap- 
proached it  he  was  in  a  perfectly  easy  state  of  mind ; 
the  business  he  was  going  on  was  none  of  his,  other- 
wise than  as  he  was  well  satisfied  with  any  oppor- 
tunity of  making  himself  valuable  to  Mr.  Philip 
Debarry.  As  he  looked  at  Jermyn's  length  of  wall 
and  iron  railing,  he  said  to  himself :  "  These  lawyers 
are  the  fellows  for  getting  on  in  the  world  with  the 
least  expense  of  civility.  With  this  cursed  conjur- 
ing secret  of  theirs  called  Law,  they  think  every- 
body is  frightened  at  them.  My  Lord  Jermyn 
seems  to  have  his  insolence  as  ready  as  his  soft 
sawder.  He 's  as  sleek  as  a  rat,  and  has  as  vicious 
a  tooth.  I  know  the  sort  of  vermin  well  enough. 
I've  helped  to  fatten  one  or  two." 

In  this  mood  of  conscious,  contemptuous  penetra- 
tion, Christian  was  shown  by  the  footman  into 
Jermyn's  private  room,  where  the  attorney  sat  sur- 
rounded with  massive  oaken  bookcases,  and  other 
furniture  to  correspond,  from  the  thickest-legged 
library-table  to  the  calendar  frame  and  card-rack. 
It  was  the  sort  of  room  a  man  prepares  for  himself 
when  he  feels  sure  of  a  long  and  respectable  future. 


296  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

He  was  leaning  back  in  his  leather  chair,  against 
the  broad  window  opening  on  the  lawn,  and  had 
just  taken  off  his  spectacles  and  let  the  newspaper 
fall  on  his  knees,  in  despair  of  reading  by  the  fading 
light. 

When  the  footman  opened  the  door  and  said, 
"Mr.  Christian,"  Jermyn  said,  " Good-evening,  Mr. 
Christian.  Be  seated,"  pointing  to  a  chair  opposite 
himself  and  the  window.  "  Light  the  candles  on 
the  shelf,  John,  but  leave  the  blinds  alone." 

He  did  not  speak  again  till  the  man  was  gone  out, 
but  appeared  to  be  referring  to  a  document  which 
lay  on  the  bureau  before  him.  When  the  door  was 
closed  he  drew  himself  up  again,  began  to  rub  his 
hands,  and  turned  towards  his  visitor,  who  seemed 
perfectly  indifferent  to  the  fact  that  the  attorney 
was  in  shadow,  and  that  the  light  fell  on  himself. 

"A  —  your  name  —  a  —  is  Henry  Scaddon." 

There  was  a  start  through  Christian's  frame  which 
he  was  quick  enough,  almost  simultaneously,  to  try 
and  disguise  as  a  change  of  position.  He  uncrossed 
his  legs  and  unbuttoned  his  coat.  But  before  he 
had  time  to  say  anything,  Jermyn  went  on  with 
slow  emphasis. 

"You  were  born  on  the  16th  of  December,  1782, 
at  Blackheath.  Your  father  was  a  cloth-merchant 
in  London ;  he  died  when  you  were  barely  of  age, 
leaving  an  extensive  business  ;  before  you  were  five- 
and-twenty  you  had  run  through  the  greater  part 
of  the  property,  and  had  compromised  your  safety 
by  an  attempt  to  defraud  your  creditors.  Subse- 
quently you  forged  a  check  on  your  father's  elder 
brother,  who  had  intended  to  make  you  his  heir." 

Here  Jermyn  paused  a  moment  and  referred  to 
the  document.     Christian  was  silent. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  297 

"In  1808  you  found  it  expedient  to  leave  this 
country  in  a  military  disguise,  and  were  taken  pris- 
oner by  the  French.  On  the  occasion  of  an  ex- 
change of  prisoners  you  had  the  opportunity  of 
returning  to  your  own  country,  and  to  the  bosom 
of  your  own  family.  You  were  generous  enough 
to  sacrifice  that  prospect  in  favour  of  a  fellow- 
prisoner,  of  about  your  own  age  and  figure,  who 
had  more  pressing  reasons  than  yourself  for  wish- 
ing to  be  on  this  side  of  the  water.  You  exchanged 
dress,  luggage,  and  names  with  him,  and  he  passed 
to  England  instead  of  you  as  Henry  Scaddon.  Al- 
most immediately  afterwards  you  escaped  from 
your  imprisonment,  after  feigning  an  illness  which 
prevented  your  exchange  of  names  from  being  dis- 
covered ;  and  it  was  reported  that  you  —  that  is, 
you  under  the  name  of  your  fellow-prisoner  — 
were  drowned  in  an  open  boat,  trying  to  reach  a 
Neapolitan  vessel  bound  for  Malta.  Nevertheless, 
I  have  to  congratulate  you  on  the  falsehood  of  that 
report,  and  on  the  certainty  that  you  are  now,  after 
the  lapse  of  more  than  twenty  years,  seated  here 
in  perfect  safety." 

Jermyn  paused  so  long  that  he  was  evidently 
awaiting  some  answer.  At  last  Christian  replied 
in  a  dogged  tone, — 

"  Well,  sir,  I  've  heard  much  longer  stories  than 
that  told  quite  as  solemnly,  when  there  was  not  a 
word  of  truth  in  them.  Suppose  I  deny  the  very 
peg  you  hang  your  statement  on.  Suppose  I  say 
I  am  not  Henry  Scaddon." 

"A  —  in  that  case  —  a,"  said  Jermyn,  with  wooden 
indifference,  "  you  would  lose  the  advantage  which 
—  a  —  may  attach  to  your  possession  of  Henry 
Scaddon's  knowledge.     And  at  the  same  time,  if  it 


298  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

were  in  the  least  —  a  —  inconvenient  to  you  that 
you  should  be  recognized  as  Henry  Scaddon,  your 
denial  would  not  prevent  me  from  holding  the 
knowledge  and  evidence  which  I  possess  on  that 
point ;  it  would  only  prevent  us  from  pursuing  the 
present  conversation." 

"Well,  sir,  suppose  we  admit,  for  the  sake  of  the 
conversation,  that  your  account  of  the  matter  is 
the  true  one  :  what  advantage  have  you  to  offer 
the  man  named  Henry  Scaddon  ? " 

"  The  advantage  —  a  —  is  problematical ;  but  it 
may  be  considerable.  It  might,  in  fact,  release 
you  from  the  necessity  of  acting  as  courier,  or 
—  a  —  valet,  or  whatever  other  office  you  may 
occupy  which  prevents  you  from  being  your  own 
master.  On  the  other  hand,  my  acquaintance 
with  your  secret  is  not  necessarily  a  disadvantage 
to  you.  To  put  the  matter  in  a  nutshell,  I  am 
not  inclined  —  a  —  gratuitously  —  to  do  you  any 
harm,  and  I  may  be  able  to  do  you  a  considerable 
service." 

"  "Which  you  want  me  to  earn  somehow  ? "  said 
Christian.     "  You  offer  me  a  turn  in  a  lottery  ? " 

"Precisely.  The  matter  in  question  is  of  no 
earthly  interest  to  you,  except  —  a  —  as  it  may 
yield  you  a  prize.  We  lawyers  have  to  do  with 
complicated  questions,  and  —  a  —  legal  subtleties, 
which  are  never  —  a  —  fully  known  even  to  the 
parties  immediately  interested,  still  less  to  the  wit- 
nesses. Shall  we  agree,  then,  that  you  continue  to 
retain  two  thirds  of  the  name  which  you  gained  by 
exchange,  and  that  you  oblige  me  by  answering 
certain  questions  as  to  the  experience  of  Henry 
Scaddon  ? " 

"  Very  good.     Go  on." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  299 

"What  articles  of  property,  once  belonging  to 
your  fellow-prisoner,  Maurice  Christian  Bycliffe,  do 
you  still  retain  ? " 

"  This  ring,"  said  Christian,  twirling  round  the 
fine  seal  ring  on  his  finger,  "  his  watch,  and  the 
little  matters  that  hung  with  it,  and  a  case  of 
papers.  I  got  rid  of  a  gold  snuff-box  once  when  I 
was  hard-up.  The  clothes  are  all  gone,  of  course. 
We  exchanged  everything;  it  was  all  done  in  a 
hurry.  Bycliffe  thought  we  should  meet  again  in 
England  before  long,  and  he  was  mad  to  get  there. 
But  that  was  impossible,  —  I  mean  that  we  should 
meet  soon  after.  I  don't  know  what's  become  of 
him,  else  I  would  give  him  up  his  papers  and  the 
watch,  and  so  on,  —  though,  you  know,  it  was  I 
who  did  him  the  service,  and  he  felt  that." 

"  You  were  at  Vesoul  together  before  being  moved 
to  Verdun  ? " 

"  Yes." 

"  What  else  do  you  know  about  Bycliffe  ? " 

"  Oh,  nothing  very  particular,"  said  Christian, 
pausing,  and  rapping  his  boot  with  his  cane.  "  He  'd 
been  in  the  Hanoverian  army,  —  a  high-spirited 
fellow,  took  nothing  easily ;  not  over-strong  in 
health.  He  made  a  fool  of  himself  with  marrying 
at  Vesoul ;  and  there  was  the  devil  to  pay  with  the 
girl's  relations ;  and  then,  when  the  prisoners  were 
ordered  off,  they  had  to  part.  Whether  they  ever 
got  together  again  I  don't  know." 

"  Was  the  marriage  all  right  then  ?  " 

"  Oh,  all  on  the  square,  —  civil  marriage,  church, 
—  everything.  Bycliffe  was  a  fool, —  a  good-na- 
tured, proud,  headstrong  fellow." 

"  How  long  did  the  marriage  take  place  before 
you  left  Vesoul  ?  " 


300  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"About  three  months.  I  was  a  witness  to  the 
marriage." 

"  And  you  know  no  more  about  the  wife  ? " 

"  Not  afterwards.  I  knew  her  very  well  before,  — 
pretty  Annette  —  Annette  Ledru  was  her  name. 
She  was  of  a  good  family,  and  they  had  made  up  a 
fine  match  for  her.  But  she  was  one  of  your  meek 
little  diablesses,  who  have  a  will  of  their  own 
once  in  their  lives,  —  the  will  to  choose  their  own 
master." 

"  Bycliffe  was  not  open  to  you  about  his  other 
affairs  ? " 

"Oh,  no, — a  fellow  you  wouldn't  dare  to  ask  a 
question  of.  People  told  him  everything,  but  he 
told  nothing  in  return.  If  Madame  Annette  ever 
found  him  again,  she  found  her  lord  and  master 
with  a  vengeance  ;  but  she  was  a  regular  lapdog. 
However,  her  family  shut  her  up  —  made  a  prisoner 
of  her  —  to  prevent  her  running  away." 

"  Ah,  —  good  !  Much  of  what  you  have  been  so 
obliging  as  to  say  is  irrelevant  to  any  possible  purpose 
of  mine,  which,  in  fact,  has  to  do  only  with  a 
mouldy  law-case  that  might  be  aired  some  day. 
You  will  doubtless,  on  your  own  account,  maintain 
perfect  silence  on  what  has  passed  between  us,  and 
with  that  condition  duly  preserved  —  a  —  it  is 
possible  that  —  a  —  the  lottery  you  have  put  into 

—  as  you  observe  —  may  turn  up  a  prize." 

"This,  then,  is  all  the  business  you  have  with 
me  ?  "  said  Christian,  rising. 

"  All.  You  will,  of  course,  preserve  carefully  all 
the  papers  and  other  articles  which  have  so  many 

—  a  —  recollections  —  a  —  attached  to  them  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  If  there  's  any  chance  of  Bycliffe  turn- 
ing up  again,  I  shall  be  sorry  to  have  parted  with 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  301 

the  snuff-box ;  but  I  was  hard  up  at  Naples.  In 
fact,  as  you  see,  I  was  obliged  at  last  to  turn 
courier." 

"  An  exceedingly  agreeable  life  for  a  man  of  some 
—  a  —  accomplishments  and  —  a  —  no  income," 
said  Jermyn,  rising,  and  reaching  a  candle,  which 
he  placed  against  his  desk. 

Christian  knew  this  was  a  sign  that  he  was  ex- 
pected to  go,  but  he  lingered  standing,  with  one 
hand  on  the  back  of  his  chair.  At  last  he  said 
rather  sulkily,  — 

"  I  think  you  're  too  clever,  Mr.  Jermyn,  not  to 
perceive  that  I  'm  not  a  man  to  be  made  a  fool  of." 

"  Well  —  a  —  it  may  perhaps  be  a  still  better 
guarantee  for  you,"  said  Jermyn,  smiling,  "  that  I 
see  no  use  in  attempting  that  —  a  —  metamorphosis." 

"The  old  gentleman,  who  ought  never  to  have 
felt  himself  injured,  is  dead  now,  and  I  'm  not 
afraid  of  creditors  after  more  than  twenty  years." 

"  Certainly  not  ;  —  a  —  there  may  indeed  be 
claims  which  can't  assert  themselves  —  a  —  legally, 
which  yet  are  molesting  to  a  man  of  some  reputa- 
tion. But  you  may  perhaps  be  happily  free  from 
such  fears." 

Jermyn  drew  round  his  chair  towards  the  bureau ; 
and  Christian,  too  acute  to  persevere  uselessly,  said, 
"  Good-day,"  and  left  the  room. 

After  leaning  back  in  his  chair  to  reflect  a  few 
minutes,  Jermyn  wrote  the  following  letter :  — 

Dear  Johnson,  —  I  learn  from  your  letter,  received 
this  morning,  that  you  intend  returning  to  town  on 
Saturday. 

While  you  are  there,  he  so  good  as  to  see  Medwin, 
who  used  to  be  with  Batt  &  Cowley,  and  ascertain  from 
him  indirectly,  and  in   the  course  of  conversation  on 


302  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

other  topics,  whether  in  that  old  business  in  1810- 
11,  Scaddon  alias  Bycliffe,  or  Bycliffe  alias  Scaddon, 
before  his  imprisonment,  gave  Batt  &  Cowley  any 
reason  to  believe  that  he  was  married  and  expected  to 
have  a  child.  The  question,  as  you  know,  is  of  no 
practical  importance  ;  but  I  wish  to  draw  up  an  ab- 
stract of  the  Bycliffe  case,  and  the  exact  position  in 
which  it  stood  before  the  suit  was  closed  by  the  death 
of  the  plaintiff,  in  order  that,  if  Mr.  Harold  Tran- 
some  desires  it,  he  may  see  how  the  failure  of  the 
last  claim  has  secured  the  Durfey-Transome  title,  and 
whether  there  is  a  hair's-breadth  of  chance  that  an- 
other claim  should  be  set  up. 

Of  course  there  is  not  a  shadow  of  such  a  chance. 
For  even  if  Batt  &  Cowley  were  to  suppose  that  they 
had  alighted  on  a  surviving  representative  of  the 
Bycliffes,  it  would  not  enter  into  their  heads  to  set 
up  a  new  claim,  since  they  brought  evidence  that  the 
last  life  which  suspended  the  Bycliffe  remainder  was 
extinct  before  the  case  was  closed,  a  good  twenty  years 
ago. 

Still,  I  want  to  show  the  present  heir  of  the  Durfey- 
Transomes  the  exact  condition  of  the  family  title  to 
the  estates.  So  get  me  an  answer  from  Medwin  on 
the  above-mentioned  point. 

I  shall  meet  you  at  Duffield  next  week.  We  must 
get  Transome  returned.  Never  mind  his  having  been 
a  little  rough  the  other  day,  but  go  on  doing  what  you 
know  is  necessary  for  his  interest.  His  interest  is 
mine,  which  I  need  not  say  is  John  Johnson's. 
Yours  faithfully, 

Matthew  Jermvn. 

When  the  attorney  had  sealed  this  letter  and 
leaned  back  in  his  chair  again,  he  was  inwardly 
saying,  — 

"  Now,  Mr.  Harold,  I  shall  shut  up  this  affair  in 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  303 

a  private  drawer  till  you  choose  to  take  any  ex- 
treme measures  which  will  force  me  to  bring  it 
out.  I  have  the  matter  entirely  in  my  own  power. 
No  one  but  old  Lyon  knows  about  the  girl's  birth. 
No  one  but  Scaddon  can  clench  the  evidence  about 
Bycliffe,  and  I've  got  Scaddon  under  my  thumb. 
No  soul  except  myself  and  Johnson,  who  is  a  limb 
of  myself,  knows  that  there  is  one  half-dead  life 
which  may  presently  leave  the  girl  a  new  claim  to 
the  Bycliffe  heirship.  I  shall  learn  through  Me- 
thurst  whether  Batt  &  Cowley  knew,  through 
Bycliffe,  of  this  woman  having  come  to  England. 
I  shall  hold  all  the  threads  between  my  thumb 
and  finger.  I  can  use  the  evidence  or  I  can  nul- 
lify it. 

"  And  so,  if  Mr.  Harold  pushes  me  to  extremity, 
and  threatens  me  with  Chancery  and  ruin,  I  have 
an  opposing  threat,  which  will  either  save  me  or 
turn  into  a  punishment  for  him." 

He  rose,  put  out  his  candles,  and  stood  with  his- 
back  to  the  fire,  looking  out  on  the  dim  lawn,  with 
its  black  twilight  fringe  of  shrubs,  still  meditating. 
Quick  thought  was  gleaming  over  five-and-thirty 
years  filled  with  devices  more  or  less  clever,  more 
or  less  desirable  to  be  avowed.  Those  which 
might  be  avowed  with  impunity  were  not  always 
to  be  distinguished  as  innocent  by  comparison 
with  those  which  it  was  advisable  to  conceal.  In 
a  profession  where  much  that  is  noxious  may  be 
done  without  disgrace,  is  a  conscience  likely  to  be 
without  balm  when  circumstances  have  urged  a 
man  to  overstep  the  line  where  his  good  technical 
information  makes  him  aware  that  (with  discovery) 
disgrace  is  likely  to  begin  ? 

With  regard  to  the  Transome  affairs,  the  family 


304  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

had  been  in  pressing  need  of  money,  and  it  had 
lain  with  him  to  get  it  for  them :  was  it  to  be  ex- 
pected that  he  would  not  consider  his  own  advan- 
tage where  he  had  rendered  services  such  as  are 
never  fully  paid  ?  If  it  came  to  a  question  of 
right  and  wrong  instead  of  law,  the  least  justifiable 
things  he  had  ever  done  had  been  done  on  behalf 
of  the  Transomes.  It  had  been  a  deucedly  un- 
pleasant thing  for  him  to  get  Bycliffe  arrested  and 
thrown  into  prison  as  Henry  Scaddon,  —  perhaps 
hastening  the  man's  death  in  that  way.  But  if  it 
had  not  been  done  by  dint  of  his  (Jermyn's)  ex- 
ertions and  tact,  he  would  like  to  know  where  the 
Durfey-Transomes  might  have  been  by  this  time. 
As  for  right  or  wrong,  if  the  truth  were  known, 
the  very  possession  of  the  estate  by  the  Durfey- 
Transomes  was  owing  to  law-tricks  that  took  place 
nearly  a  century  ago,  when  the  original  old  Durfey 
got  his  base  fee. 

But  inward  argument  of  this  sort  now,  as  always, 
was  merged  in  anger,  in  exasperation,  that  Harold, 
precisely  Harold  Transome,  should  have  turned 
out  to  be  the  probable  instrument  of  a  visitation 
which  would  be  bad  luck,  not  justice ;  for  is  there 
any  justice  where  ninety-nine  out  of  a  hundred 
escape  ?  He  felt  himself  beginning  to  hate  Harold 
as  he  had  never  — 

Just  then  Jermyn's  third  daughter,  a  tall  slim 
girl,  wrapped  in  a  white  woollen  shawl,  which  she 
had  hung  over  her  blanket-wise,  skipped  across  the 
lawn  towards  the  greenhouse  to  get  a  flower. 
Jermyn  was  startled,  and  did  not  identify  the  fig- 
ure, or  rather  he  identified  it  falsely  with  another 
tall  white-wrapped  figure  which  had  sometimes  set 
his  heart  beating  quickly  more  than  thirty  years 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  3°5 

before.  For  a  moment  he  was  fully  back  in  those 
distant  years  when  he  and  another  bright-eyed 
person  had  seen  no  reason  why  they  should  not 
indulge  their  passion  and  their  vanity,  and  deter- 
mine for  themselves  how  their  lives  should  be 
made  delightful  in  spite  of  unalterable  external 
conditions.  The  reasons  had  been  unfolding  them- 
selves gradually  ever  since  through  all  the  years 
which  had  converted  the  handsome,  soft-eyed,  slim 
young  Jermyn  (with  a  touch  of  sentiment)  into  a 
portly  lawyer  of  sixty,  for  whom  life  had  resolved 
itself  into  the  means  of  keeping  up  his  head  among 
his  professional  brethren  and  maintaining  an  estab- 
lishment, —  into  a  gray -haired  husband  and  father, 
whose  third  affectionate  and  expensive  daughter 
now  rapped  at  the  window  and  called  to  him, 
"  Papa,  papa,  get  ready  for  dinner ;  don't  you  ie 
member  that  the  Lukyns  are  coming  ? " 

vol.1.  —  90 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Her  gentle  looks  shot  arrows,  piercing  him, 
As  gods  are  pierced,  with  poison  of  sweet  pity. 

The  evening  of  the  market-day  had  passed,  and 
Felix  had  not  looked  in  at  Malthouse  Yard  to  talk 
over  the  public  events  with  Mr.  Lyon.  When 
Esther  was  dressing  the  next  morning,  she  had 
reached  a  point  of  irritated  anxiety  to  see  Felix,  at 
which  she  found  herself  devising  little  schemes  for 
attaining  that  end  in  some  way  that  would  be  so 
elaborate  as  to  seem  perfectly  natural.  Her  watch 
had  a  long-standing  ailment  of  losing ;  possibly  it 
wanted  cleaning ;  Felix  would  tell  her  if  it  merely 
wanted  regulating,  whereas  Mr.  Prowd  might  de- 
tain it  unnecessarily,  and  cause  her  useless  incon- 
venience. Or  could  she  not  get  a  valuable  hint 
from  Mrs.  Holt  about  the  homemade  bread,  which 
was  something  as  "  sad  "  as  Lyddy  herself  ?  Or,  if 
she  came  home  that  way  at  twelve  o'clock,  Felix 
might  be  going  out,  she  might  meet  him,  and  not 
be  obliged  to  call.  Or,  —  but  it  would  be  very 
much  beneath  her  to  take  any  steps  of  this  sort. 
Her  watch  had  been  losing  for  the  last  two  months, 
—  why  should  it  not  go  on  losing  a  little  longer  ? 
She  could  think  of  no  devices  that  were  not  so 
transparent  as  to  be  undignified.  All  the  more  un- 
dignified because  Felix  chose  to  live  in  a  way  that 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  307 

would  prevent  any  one  from  classing  him  according 
to  his  education  and  mental  refinement,  —  "  which 
certainly  are  very  high,"  said  Esther,  inwardly, 
colouring,  as  if  in  answer  to  some  contrary  allega- 
tion, *  else  I  should  not  think  his  opinion  of  any 
consequence."  But  she  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
she  couli  not  possibly  call  at  Mrs.  Holt's. 

It  followed  that  up  to  a  few  minutes  past  twelve, 
when  she  reached  the  turning  towards  Mrs.  Holt's, 
she  believed  that  she  should  go  home  the  other 
way ;  but  at  the  last  moment  there  is  always  a 
reason  not  existing  before,  —  namely,  the  impossi- 
bility of  further  vacillation.  Esther  turned  the 
corner  without  any  visible  pause,  and  in  another 
minute  was  knocking  at  Mrs.  Holt's  door,  not  with- 
out an  inward  flutter,  which  she  was  bent  on 
disguising. 

"It's  never  you,  Miss  Lyon!  who  'd  have  thought 
of  seeing  you  at  this  time  ?  Is  the  minister  ill  ?  I 
thought  he  looked  creechy.  If  you  want  help,  I  '11 
put  my  bonnet  on." 

"Don't  keep  Miss  Lyon  at  the  door,  mother; 
ask  her  to  come  in,"  said  the  ringing  voice  of  Eelix, 
surmounting  various  small  shufflings  and  babbling 
voices  within. 

"  It 's  my  wish  for  her  to  come  in,  I  'm  sure,"  said 
Mrs.  Holt,  making  way  ;  "  but  what  is  there  for  her 
to  come  in  to  ?  a  floor  worse  than  any  public.  But 
step  in,  pray,  if  you  're  so  inclined.  When  I  've 
been  forced  to  take  my  bit  of  carpet  up  and  have 
benches,  I  don't  see  why  I  need  mind  nothing  no 
more." 

"  I  only  came  to  ask  Mr.  Holt  if  he  would  look  at 
my  watch  for  me,"  said  Esther,  entering,  and  blush- 
ing a  general  rose-colour. 


308  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

"  He  '11  do  that  fast  enough,"  said  Mrs.  Holt,  with 
emphasis ;  "  that 's  one  of  the  things  he  will  do." 

"  Excuse  my  rising,  Miss  Lyon,"  said  Felix ;  "  I  'm 
binding  up  Job's  finger." 

Job  was  a  small  fellow  about  five,  with  a  germi- 
nal nose,  large  round  blue  eyes,  and  red  hair  that 
curled  close  to  his  head  like  the  wool  on  the  back 
of  an  infantine  lamb.  He  had  evidently  been  cry- 
ing, and  the  corners  of  his  mouth  were  still  dolo- 
rous. Felix  held  him  on  his  knee  as  he  bound 
and  tied  up  very  cleverly  a  tiny  forefinger.  There 
was  a  table  in  front  of  Felix  and  against  the  win- 
dow, covered  with  his  watch-making  implements 
and  some  open  books.  Two  benches  stood  at  right 
angles  on  the  sanded  floor,  and  six  or  seven  boys  of 
various  ages  up  to  twelve  were  getting  their  caps 
and  preparing  to  go  home.  They  huddled  them- 
selves together  and  stood  still  when  Esther  entered. 
Felix  could  not  look  up  till  he  had  finished  his  sur- 
gery, but  he  went  on  speaking. 

"  This  is  a  hero,  Miss  Lyon.  This  is  Job  Tudge, 
a  bold  Briton  whose  finger  hurts  him,  but  who 
does  n't  mean  to  cry.  Good-morning,  boys.  Don't 
lose  your  time.     Get  out  into  the  air." 

Esther  seated  herself  on  the  end  of  the  bench 
near  Felix,  much  relieved  that  Job  was  the  im- 
mediate object  of  attention;  and  the  other  boys 
rushed  out  behind  her  with  a  brief  chant  of  "  Good- 
morning  ! " 

"  Did  you  ever  see,"  said  Mrs.  Holt,  standing  to 
look  on,  "how  wonderful  Felix  is  at  that  small 
work  with  his  large  fingers  ?  And  that 's  because 
he  learnt  doctoring.  It  is  n't  for  want  of  cleverness 
he  looks  like  a  poor  man,  Miss  Lyon.  I  've  left  off 
speaking,  else  I  should  say  it 's  a  sin  and  a  shame." 


ti  \\U.;    1 A. 

Felix  Holt  and  Job  Tudge. 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  309 

"  Mother,"  said  Felix,  who  often  amused  himself 
and  kept  good-humoured  by  giving  his  mother  an- 
swers that  were  unintelligible  to  her,  "  you  have  an 
astonishing  readiness  in  the  Ciceronian  antiphrasis, 
considering  you  have  never  studied  oratory.  There, 
Job,  —  thou  patient  man,  —  sit  still  if  thou  wilt; 
and  now  we  can  look  at  Miss  Lyon." 

Esther  had  taken  off  her  watch  and  was  holding 
it  in  her  hand.  But  he  looked  at  her  face,  or  rather 
at  her  eyes,  as  he  said,  "You  want  me  to  doctor 
your  watch  ? " 

Esther's  expression  was  appealing  and  timid,  as  it 
had  never  been  before  in  Felix's  presence ;  but  when 
she  saw  the  perfect  calmness,  which  to  her  seemed 
coldness,  of  his  clear  gray  eyes,  as  if  he  saw  no  rea- 
son for  attaching  any  emphasis  to  this  first  meeting, 
a  pang  swift  as  an  electric  shock  darted  through 
her.  She  had  been  very  foolish  to  think  so  much 
of  it.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if  her  inferiority  to  Felix 
made  a  great  gulf  between  them.  She  could  not  at 
once  rally  her  pride  and  self-command,  but  let  her 
glance  fall  on  her  watch,  and  said,  rather  tremu- 
lously, "  It  loses.  It  is  very  troublesome.  It  has 
been  losing  a  long  while." 

Felix  took  the  watch  from  her  hand ;  then,  look- 
ing round  and  seeing  that  his  mother  was  gone  out 
of  the  room,  he  said  very  gently,  — 

"  You  look  distressed,  Miss  Lyon.  I  hope  there 
is  no  trouble  at  home  "  (Felix  was  thinking  of  the 
minister's  agitation  on  the  previous  Sunday).  "  But 
I  ought  perhaps  to  beg  your  pardon  for  saying  so 
much." 

Poor  Esther  was  quite  helpless.  The  mortifica- 
tion which  had  come  like  a  bruise  to  all  the  sensi- 
bilities that  had  been  in  keen  activity,  insisted  on 


310  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

some  relief.  Her  eyes  filled  instantly,  and  a  great 
tear  rolled  down  while  she  said  in  a  loud  sort  of 
whisper,  as  involuntary  as  her  tears,  — 

"  I  wanted  to  tell  you  that  I  was  not  offended,  — 
that  I  am  not  ungenerous  —  I  thought  you  might 
think  —  but  you  have  not  thought  of  it." 

Was  there  ever  more  awkward  speaking  ?  —  or 
any  behaviour  less  like  that  of  the  graceful,  self-pos- 
sessed Miss  Lyon,  whose  phrases  were  usually  so 
well  turned,  and  whose  repartees  were  so  ready  ? 

For  a  moment  there  was  silence.  Esther  had  her 
two  little  delicately  gloved  hands  clasped  on  the 
table.  The  next  moment  she  felt  one  hand  of 
Felix  covering  them  both  and  pressing  them  firmly ; 
but  he  did  not  speak.  The  tears  were  both  on 
her  cheeks  now,  and  she  could  look  up  at  him. 
His  eyes  had  an  expression  of  sadness  in  them 
quite  new  to  her.  Suddenly  little  Job,  who  had 
his  mental  exercises  on  the  occasion,  called  out 
impatiently,  — 

"  She 's  tut  her  finger  ! " 

Felix  and  Esther  laughed,  and  drew  their  hands 
away ;  and  as  Esther  took  her  handkerchief  to  wipe 
the  tears  from  her  cheeks,  she  said, — 

"  You  see,  Job,  I  am  a  naughty  coward.  I  can't 
help  crying  when  I  've  hurt  myself." 

"Zoo  sood  n't  kuy,"  said  Job,  energetically,  being 
much  impressed  with  a  moral  doctrine  which  had 
come  to  him  after  a  sufficient  trangression  of  it. 

"  Job  is  like  me,"  said  Felix,  "  fonder  of  preach- 
ing than  of  practice.  But  let  us  look  at  this  same 
watch,"  he  went  on,  opening  and  examining  it. 
"  These  little  Geneva  toys  are  cleverly  constructed 
to  go  always  a  little  wrong.  But  if  you  wind  them 
up  and  set  them  regularly  every  night,  you  may 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  311 

know  at  least  that,  it 's  not  noon  when  the  hand 
points  there." 

Felix  chatted,  that  Esther  might  recover  herself ; 
but  now  Mrs.  Holt  came  back  and  apologized. 

"  You  '11  excuse  my  going  away,  I  know,  Miss 
Lyon.  But  there  were  the  dumplings  to  see  to,  and 
what  little  I  've  got  left  on  my  hands  now,  I  like  to 
do  well.  Not  but  what  I  've  more  cleaning  to  do 
than  ever  I  had  in  my  life  before,  as  you  may  tell 
soon  enough  if  you  look  at  this  floor.  But  when 
you've  been  used  to  doing  things,  and  they've 
been  taken  away  from  you,  it 's  as  if  your  hands  had 
been  cut  off,  and  you  felt  the  fingers  as  are  of  no 
use  to  you." 

"That 's  a  great  image,  mother,"  said  Felix, as  he 
snapped  the  watch  together,  and  handed  it  to  Esther ; 
"  I  never  heard  you  use  such  an  image  before." 

"  Yes,  I  know  you  've  always  some  fault  to  find 
with  what  your  mother  says.  But  if  ever  there 
was  a  woman  could  talk  with  the  open  Bible  before 
her,  and  not  be  afraid,  it 's  me.  I  never  did  tell 
stories,  and  I  never  will,  —  though  I  know  it 's  done, 
Miss  Lyon,  and  by  church  members  too,  when  they 
have  candles  to  sell,  as  I  could  bring  you  the  proof. 
But  I  never  was  one  of  'em,  let  Felix  say  what  he 
will  about  the  printing  on  the  tickets.  His  father 
believed  it  was  gospel  truth,  and  it's  presumptuous 
to  say  it  was  n't.  For  as  for  curing,  how  can  anybody 
know  ?  There 's  no  physic  '11  cure  without  a  bless- 
ing, and  with  a  blessing  I  know  I  've  seen  a  mus- 
tard plaister  work  when  there  was  no  more  smell 
nor  strength  in  the  mustard  than  so  much  flour; 
and  reason  good,  —  for  the  mustard  had  lain  in 
paper  nobody  knows  how  long  —  so  I'll  leave  you 
to  guess." 


312  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Mrs.  Holt  looked  hard  out  of  the  window,  and 
gave  a  slight  inarticulate  sound  of  scorn. 

Felix  had  leaned  back  in  his  chair  with  a  resigned 
smile,  and  was  pinching  Job's  ears. 

Esther  said,  "  I  think  I  had  better  go  now,"  not 
knowing  what  else  to  say,  yet  not  wishing  to  go 
immediately,  lest  she  should  seem  to  be  running 
away  from  Mrs.  Holt.  She  felt  keenly  how  much 
endurance  there  must  be  for  Felix.  And  she  had 
often  been  discontented  with  her  father,  and  called 
him  tiresome ! 

"  Where  does  Job  Tudge  live  ? "  she  said,  still 
sitting,  and  looking  at  the  droll  little  figure,  set  off 
by  a  ragged  jacket  with  a  tail  about  two  inches 
deep  sticking  out  above  the  funniest  of  corduroys. 

"Job  has  two  mansions,"  said  Felix.  "  He  lives 
here  chiefly ;  but  he  has  another  home,  where  his 
grandfather,  Mr.  Tudge,  the  stone-breaker,  lives. 
My  mother  is  very  good  to  Job,  Miss  Lyon.  She 
has  made  him  a  little  bed,  in  a  cupboard,  and  she 
gives  him  sweetened  porridge." 

The  exquisite  goodness  implied  in  these  words  of 
Felix  impressed  Esther  the  more,  because  in  her 
hearing  his  talk  had  usually  been  pungent  and 
denunciatory.  Looking  at  Mrs.  Holt,  she  saw  that 
her  eyes  had  lost  their  bleak  northeasterly  expres- 
sion, and  were  shining  with  some  mildness  on  little 
Job,  who  had  turned  round  towards  her,  propping 
his  head  against  Felix. 

"  Well,  why  should  n't  I  be  motherly  to  the  child, 
Miss  Lyon  ? "  said  Mrs.  Holt,  whose  strong  powers 
of  argument  required  the  file  of  an  imagined  con- 
tradiction, if  there  were  no  real  one  at  hand.  "  I 
never  was  hard-hearted,  and  I  never  will  be.  It 
was  Felix  picked  the  child  up  and  took  to  him, 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  313 

you  may  be  sure,  for  there's  nobody  else  master 
where  he  is  ;  but  I  was  n't  going  to  beat  the  orphan 
child  and  abuse  him  because  of  that,  and  him  as 
straight  as  an  arrow  when  he  's  stript,  and  me  so 
fond  of  children,  and  only  had  one  of  my  own  to 
live.  I  'd  three  babies,  Miss  Lyon ;  but  the  blessed 
Lord  only  spared  Felix,  and  him  the  masterfullest 
and  the  brownest  of  'em  all.  But  I  did  my  duty 
by  him,  and  I  said,  he  '11  have  more  schooling  than 
his  father,  and  he  '11  grow  up  a  doctor,  and  marry  a 
woman  with  money  to  furnish,  —  as  I  was  myself, 
spoons  and  everything,  —  and  I  shall  have  the 
grandchildren  to  look  up  to  me,  and  be  drove  out 
in  the  gig  sometimes,  like  old  Mrs.  Lukyn.  And 
you  see  what  it 's  all  come  to,  Miss  Lyon :  here  's 
Felix  made  a  common  man  of  himself,  and  says 
he  '11  never  be  married,  —  which  is  the  most  un- 
reasonable thing,  and  him  never  easy  but  when 
he  's  got  the  child  on  his  lap,  or  when  —  " 

"  Stop,  stop,  mother,"  Felix  burst  in ;  "  pray 
don't  use  that  limping  argument  again,  —  that  a 
man  should  marry  because  he  's  fond  of  children. 
That 's  a  reason  for  not  marrying.  A  bachelor's 
children  are  always  young ;  they  're  immortal  chil- 
dren, —  always  lisping,  waddling,  helpless,  and  with 
a  chance  of  turning  out  good." 

"  The  Lord  above  may  know  what  you  mean  ! 
And  have  n't  other  folk's  children  a  chance  01 
turning  out  good  ?  " 

"  Oh,  they  grow  out  of  it  very  fast.  Here  's  Job 
Tudge  now,"  said  Felix,  turning  the  little  one  round 
on  his  knee,  and  holding  his  head  by  the  back,  — 
"  Job's  limbs  will  get  lanky ;  this  little  fist  that 
looks  like  a  puff-ball  and  can  hide  nothing  bigger 
than   a   gooseberry,  will  get   large  and  bony,  and 


314  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

perhaps  want  to  clutch  more  than  its  share; 
these  wide  blue  eyes  that  tell  me  more  truth  than 
Job  knows,  will  narrow  and  narrow  and  try 
to  hide  truth  that  Job  would  be  better  without 
knowing ;  this  little  negative  nose  will  become 
long  and  self-asserting ;  and  this  little  tongue  — 
put  out  thy  tongue,  Job  ! "  —  Job,  awe-struck  under 
this  ceremony,  put  out  a  little  red  tongue  very 
timidly  —  "  this  tongue,  hardly  bigger  than  a  rose- 
leaf,  will  get  large  and  thick,  wag  out  of  season, 
do  mischief,  brag  and  cant  for  gain  or  vanity,  and 
cut  as  cruelly,  for  all  its  clumsiness,  as  if  it 
were  a  sharp-edged  blade.  Big  Job  will  perhaps  be 
naughty  — "  As  Felix,  speaking  with  the  loud 
emphatic  distinctness  habitual  to  him,  brought 
out  this  terribly  familiar  word,  Job's  sense  of 
mystification  became  too  painful ;  he  hung  his  lip 
and  began  to  cry. 

"  See  there,"  said  Mrs.  Holt,  "  you  're  frighten- 
ing the  innicent  child  with  such  talk,  —  and  it 's 
enough  to  frighten  them  that  think  themselves 
the  safest." 

"  Look  here,  Job,  my  man,"  said  Felix,  setting 
the  boy  down  and  turning  him  towards  Esther ; 
"go  to  Miss  Lyon,  ask  her  to  smile  at  you,  and 
that  will  dry  up  your  tears  like  the  sunshine." 

Job  put  his  two  brown  fists  on  Esther's  lap,  and 
she  stooped  to  kiss  him.  Then  holding  his  face 
between  her  hands,  she  said :  "  Tell  Mr.  Holt  we 
don't  mean  to  be  naughty,  Job.  He  should  be- 
lieve in  us  more.  But  now  I  must  really  go 
home." 

Esther  rose  and  held  out  her  hand  to  Mrs.  Holt, 
who  kept  it  while  she  said,  a  little  to  Esther's 
confusion,  — 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  315 

*  I  am  very  glad  it 's  took  your  fancy  to  come 
here  sometimes,  Miss  Lyon.  I  know  you  're 
thought  to  hold  your  head  high,  but  I  speak  of 
people  as  I  find  'em.  And  I  'm  sure  anybody  had 
need  be  humble  that  comes  where  there  's  a  floor 
like  this,  —  for  I  've  put  by  my  best  tea-trays, 
they  're  so  out  of  all  charicter,  —  I  must  look 
Above  for  comfort  now ;  but  I  don't  say  I  'm  not 
worthy  to  be  called  on  for  all  that." 

Felix  had  risen  and  moved  towards  the  door,  that 
he  might  open  it  and  shield  Esther  from  more  last 
words  on  his  mother's  part. 

"Good-by,  Mr.  Holt." 

"  Will  Mr.  Lyon  like  me  to  sit  with  him  an  hour 
this  evening,  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?     He  always  likes  to  see  you." 

"  Then  I  will  come.     Good-by." 

"  She 's  a  very  straight  figure,"  said  Mrs.  Holt. 
"  How  she  carries  herself !  But  I  doubt  there  's 
some  truth  in  what  our  people  say.  If  she  won't 
look  at  young  Muscat,  it 's  the  better  for  him. 
He  'd  need  have  a  big  fortune  that  marries  her." 

"  That 's  true,  mother,"  said  Felix,  sitting  down, 
snatching  up  little  Job,  and  finding  a  vent  for  some 
unspeakable  feeling  in  the  pretence  of  worrying 
him. 

Esther  was  rather  melancholy  as  she  went  home, 
yet  happier  withal  than  she  had  been  for  many 
days  before.  She  thought :  "  I  need  not  mind  having 
shown  so  much  anxiety  about  his  opinion.  He  is 
too  clear-sighted  to  mistake  our  mutual  position ; 
he  is  quite  above  putting  a  false  interpretation  on 
what  I  have  done.  Besides,  he  had  not  thought  of 
me  at  all,  —  I  saw  that  plainly  enough.  Yet  he 
was  very   kind.     There   is   something  greater  and 


3i6  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

better  in  him  than  I  had  imagined.  His  behaviour 
to-day  —  to  his  mother  and  me  too,  —  I  should 
call  it  the  highest  gentlemanliness,  only  it  seems  in 
him  to  be  something  deeper.  But  he  has  chosen 
an  intolerable  life ;  though  I  suppose,  if  I  had  a 
mind  equal  to  his,  and  if  he  loved  me  very  dearly, 
I  should  choose  the  same  life." 

Esther  felt  that  she  had  prefixed  an  impossible 
"  if  "  to  that  result.  But  now  she  had  known  Felix, 
her  conception  of  what  a  happy  love  must  be  had 
become  like  a  dissolving  view,  in  which  the  once- 
clear  images  were  gradually  melting  into  new  forms 
and  new  colours.  The  favourite  Byronic  heroes 
were  beginning  to  look  something  like  last  night's 
decorations  seen  in  the  sober  dawn.  So  fast  does  a 
little  leaven  spread  within  us,  —  so  incalculable  is 
the  effect  of  one  personality  on  another.  Behind 
all  Esther's  thoughts,  like  an  unacknowledged  yet 
constraining  presence,  there  was  the  sense  that  if 
Felix  Holt  were  to  love  her,  her  life  would  be  ex- 
alted into  something  quite  new,  —  into  a  sort  of 
difficult  blessedness,  such  as  one  may  imagine  in 
beings  who  are  conscious  of  painfully  growing  into 
the  possession  of  higher  powers. 

It  was  quite  true  that  Felix  had  not  thought  the 
more  of  Esther  because  of  that  Sunday  afternoon's 
interview  which  had  shaken  her  mind  to  the  very 
roots.  He  had  avoided  intruding  on  Mr.  Lyon 
without  special  reason,  because  he  believed  the  min- 
ister to  be  preoccupied  with  some  private  care.  He 
had  thought  a  great  deal  of  Esther  with  a  mixture 
of  strong  disapproval  and  strong  liking,  which  both 
together  made  a  feeling  the  reverse  of  indifference ; 
but  he  was  not  going  to  let  her  have  any  influence 
on   his   life.     Even   if  his   determination  had   not 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  317 

been  fixed,  he  would  have  believed  that  she  would 
utterly  scorn  him  in  any  other  light  than  that  of 
an  acquaintance,  and  the  emotion  she  had  shown 
to-day  did  not  change  that  belief.  But  he  was 
deeply  touched  by  this  manifestation  of  her  better 
qualities,  and  felt  that  there  was  a  new  tie  of 
friendship  between  them.  That  was  the  brief 
history  Felix  would  have  given  of  his  relation  to 
Esther.  And  he  was  accustomed  to  observe  him- 
self. But  very  close  and  diligent  looking  at  living 
creatures,  even  through  the  best  microscope,  will 
leave  room  for  new  and  contradictory  discoveries. 

Felix  found  Mr.  Lyon  particularly  glad  to  talk  to 
him.  The  minister  had  never  yet  disburthened 
himself  about  his  letter  to  Mr.  Philip  Debarry 
concerning  the  public  conference  ;  and  as  by  this 
time  he  had  all  the  heads  of  his  discussion 
thoroughly  in  his  mind,  it  was  agreeable  to  recite 
them,  as  well  as  to  express  his  regret  that  time  had 
been  lost  by  Mr.  Debarry's  absence  from  the  Manor, 
which  had  prevented  the  immediate  fulfilment  of 
his  pledge. 

"  I  don't  see  how  he  can  fulfil  it  if  the  Rector 
refuses,"  said  Felix,  thinking  it  well  to  moderate 
the  little  man's  confidence. 

"  The  Bector  is  of  a  spirit  that  will  not  incur 
earthly  impeachment,  and  he  cannot  refuse  what  is 
necessary  to  his  nephew's  honourable  discharge  of 
an  obligation,"  said  Mr.  Lyon.  "  My  young  friend, 
it  is  a  case  wherein  the  prearranged  conditions 
tend  by  such  a  beautiful  fitness  to  the  issue  I 
have  sought,  that  I  should  have  forever  held  my- 
self a  traitor  to  my  charge  had  I  neglected  the 
indication." 


CHAPTEE  XXIIL 

I  will  not  excuse  you  ;  you  shall  not  be  excused  ;  excuses  shall 
not  be  admitted  ;  there 's  no  excuse  shall  serve ;  you  shall  not  be 
excused.  —  Henry  £  V, 

When  Philip  Debarry  had  come  home  that  morn- 
ing and  read  the  letters  which  had  not  been  for- 
warded to  him,  he  laughed  so  heartily  at  Mr.  Lyon's 
that  he  congratulated  himself  on  being  in  his 
private  room.  Otherwise  his  laughter  would  have 
awakened  the  curiosity  of  Sir  Maximus,  and  Philip 
did  not  wish  to  tell  any  one  the  contents  of  the 
letter  until  he  had  shown  them  to  his  uncle.  He 
determined  to  ride  over  to  the  Eectory  to  lunch ;  for 
as  Lady  Mary  was  away,  he  and  his  uncle  might 
be  tete-a-tete. 

The  Eectory  was  on  the  other  side  of  the  river, 
close  to  the  church,  of  which  it  was  the  fitting  com- 
panion ;  a  fine  old  brick-and-stone  house,  with  a 
great  bow-window  opening  from  the  library  on  to 
the  deep-turfed  lawn,  one  fat  dog  sleeping  on  the 
door-stone,  another  fat  dog  waddling  on  the  gravel, 
the  autumn  leaves  duly  swept  away,  the  lingering 
chrysanthemums  cherished,  tall  trees  stooping  or 
soaring  in  the  most  picturesque  variety,  and  a 
Virginian  creeper  turning  a  little  rustic  hut  into  a 
scarlet  pavilion.  It  was  one  of  those  rectories 
which  are  among  the  bulwarks  of  our  venerable 
institutions,  —  which  arrest  disintegrating  doubt, 
serve  as  a  double  embankment  against  Popery  and 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  319 

Dissent,  and  rally  feminine  instinct  and  affection  to 
reinforce  the  decisions  of  masculine  thought 

"What  makes  you  look  so  merry,  Phil?"  said 
the  Eector,  as  his  nephew  entered  the  pleasant 
library. 

"  Something  that  concerns  you,"  said  Philip,  tak- 
ing out  the  letter.  "  A  clerical  challenge.  Here 's 
an  opportunity  for  you  to  emulate  the  divines  of  the 
sixteenth  century  and  have  a  theological  dueL 
Eead  this  letter." 

"  What  answer  have  you  sent  the  crazy  little 
fellow  ? "  said  the  Rector,  keeping  the  letter  in  his 
hand  and  running  over  it  again  and  again,  with  brow 
knit,  but  eyes  gleaming  without  any  malignity. 

"  Oh,  I  sent  no  answer.     I  awaited  yours." 

"Mine!"  said  the  Rector,  throwing  down  the 
letter  on  the  table.  "  You  don't  suppose  I  'm  going 
to  hold  a  public  debate  with  a  schismatic  of  that 
sort  ?  I  should  have  an  infidel  shoemaker  next 
expecting  me  to  answer  blasphemies  delivered  in 
bad  grammar." 

"  But  you  see  how  he  puts  it,"  said  Philip.  With 
all  his  gravity  of  nature  he  could  not  resist  a 
slightly  mischievous  prompting,  though  he  had  a 
serious  feeling  that  he  should  not  like  to  be  re- 
garded as  failing  to  fulfil  his  pledge.  "  I  think  if 
you  refuse,  I  shall  be  obliged  to   offer  myself." 

"  Nonsense  !  Tell  him  he  is  himself  acting  a 
dishonourable  part  in  interpreting  your  words  as  a 
pledge  to  do  any  preposterous  thing  that  suits  his 
fancy.  Suppose  he  had  asked  you  to  give  him  land 
to  build  a  chapel  on ;  doubtless  that  would  have 
given  him  a  '  lively  satisfaction.'  A  man  who  puts 
a  non-natural  strained  sense  on  a  promise  is  no 
better  than  a  robber." 

"  But  he  has  not  asked  for  land.    I  dare  sav  he 


J 


320  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

thinks  you  won't  object  to  his  proposal.  I  con- 
fess there  's  a  simplicity  and  quaintness  about  the 
letter  that  rather  pleases  me." 

"  Let  me  tell  you,  Phil,  he  's  a  crazy  little  firefly, 
that  does  a  great  deal  of  harm  in  my  parish.  He 
inflames  the  Dissenters'  minds  on  politics.  There 's 
no  end  to  the  mischief  done  by  these  busy  prating 
men.  They  make  the  ignorant  multitude  the  judges 
of  the  largest  questions,  both  political  and  religious, 
till  we  shall  soon  have  no  institution  left  that  is  not 
on  a  level  with  the  comprehension  of  a  huckster  or 
a  drayman.  There  can  be  nothing  more  retrograde,  — 
losing  all  the  results  of  civilization,  all  the  lessons 
of  Providence,  —  letting  the  windlass  run  down  after 
men  have  been  turning  at  it  painfully  for  gener- 
ations. If  the  instructed  are  not  to  judge  for  the 
uninstructed,  why,  let  us  set  Dick  Stubbs  to  make 
our  almanacs,  and  have  a  President  of  the  Eoyal 
Society  elected  by  universal  suffrage." 

The  Rector  had  risen,  placed  himself  with  his 
back  to  the  fire,  and  thrust  his  hands  in  his  pockets, 
ready  to  insist  further  on  this  wide  argument. 
Philip  sat  nursing  one  leg,  listening  respectfully,  as 
he  always  did,  though  often  listening  to  the  sono- 
rous echo  of  his  own  statements,  which  suited  his 
uncle's  needs  so  exactly  that  he  did  not  distinguish 
them  from  his  old  impressions. 

"True,"  said  Philip,  "but  in  special  cases  we 
have  to  do  with  special  conditions.  You  know  I 
defend  the  casuists.  And  it  may  happen  that  for 
the  honour  of  the  Church  in  Treby  and  a  little 
also  for  my  honour,  circumstances  may  demand  a 
concession  even  to  some  notions  of  a  Dissenting 
preacher." 

"  Not  at  all.  I  should  be  making  a  figure  which 
my  brother  clergy  might  well  take  as  an  affront  to 


EELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  321 

themselves.  The  character  of  the  Establishment 
has  suffered  enough  already  through  the  Evangeli- 
cals, with  their  extempore  incoherence  and  their 
pipe-smoking  piety.  Look  at  "Wimple,  the  man 
who  is  vicar  of  Shuttleton,  —  without  his  gown 
and  bands,  anybody  would  take  him  for  a  grocer 
in  mourning." 

"  "Well,  I  shall  cut  a  still  worse  figure,  and  so  will 
you,  in  the  Dissenting  magazines  and  newspapers. 
It  will  go  the  round  of  the  kingdom.  There  will 
be  a  paragraph  headed  '  Tory  Falsehood  and  Cleri- 
cal Cowardice,'  or  else  '  The  Meanness  of  the  Aris- 
tocracy and  the  Incompetence  of  the  Beneficed 
Clergy."' 

"  There  would  be  a  worse  paragraph  if  I  were  to 
consent  to  the  debate.  Of  course  it  would  be  said 
that  I  was  beaten  hollow,  and  that  now  the  ques- 
tion had  been  cleared  up  at  Treby  Magna,  the 
Church  had  not  a  sound  leg  to  stand  on.  Besides," 
the  Eector  went  on,  frowning  and  smiling,  "  it 's  all 
very  well  for  you  to  talk,  Phil,  but  this  debating  is 
not  so  easy  when  a  man 's  close  upon  sixty.  "What; 
one  writes  or  says  must  be  something  good  and 
scholarly ;  and  after  all  had  been  done,  this  little 
Lyon  would  buzz  about  one  like  a  wasp,  and  cross- 
question  and  rejoin.  Let  me  tell  you,  a  plain  truth 
may  be  so  worried  and  mauled  by  fallacies  as  to  get 
the  worst  of  it  There 's  no  such  thing  as  tiring  a 
talking  machine  like  Lyon." 

"  Then  you  absolutely  refuse  ? n 

"Yes,  I  do." 

"  You  remember  that  when  I  wrote  my  letter  of 
thanks  to  Lyon  you  approved  my  offer  to  serve  him 
if  possible." 

"  Certainly  I  remember  it.  But  suppose  he  had 
voui.— 21 


322  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL, 

asked  you  to  vote  for  civil  marriage,  or  to  go  and 
hear  him  preach  every  Sunday  ? " 
"  But  he  has  not  asked  that." 
"  Something  as  unreasonable,  though." 
"Well,"  said  Philip,  taking  up  Mr.  Lyon's  let- 
ter and  looking  graver,  looking  even  vexed,  "it  is 
rather  an  unpleasant  business  for  me.     I  really  felt 
obliged  to  him.     I  think  there 's  a  sort  of  worth  in 
the  man  beyond  his  class.     Whatever  may  be  the 
reason  of  the  case,  I  shall  disappoint  him  instead  of 
doing  him  the  service  I  offered." 

"  Well,  that 's  a  misfortune  ;  we  can't  help  it." 
*  The  worst  of  it  is,  I  should  be  insulting  him  to 
say, '  I  will  do  anything  else,  but  not  just  this  that 
you  want.'  He  evidently  feels  himself  in  company 
with  Luther  and  Zwingle  and  Calvin,  and  considers 
our  letters  part  of  the  history  of  Protestantism." 

"Yes,  yes.  I  know  it's  rather  an  unpleasant 
thing,  PhiL  You  are  aware  that  I  would  have 
done  anything  in  reason  to  prevent  you  from  be- 
coming unpopular  here.  I  consider  your  character 
a  possession  to  all  of  us." 

"  I  think  I  must  call  on  him  forthwith  and  ex- 
plain and  apologize." 

"  No,  sit  still ;  I  've  thought  of  something,"  said 
the  Eector,  with  a  sudden  revival  of  spirits.  "  I  've 
just  seen  Sherlock  coming  in.  He  is  to  lunch  with 
me  to-day.  It  would  do  no  harm  for  him  to  hold 
the  debate,  —  a  curate  and  a  young  man,  —  hell 
gain  by  it ;  and  it  would  release  you  from  any  awk- 
wardness, PhiL  Sherlock  is  not  going  to  stay  here 
long,  you  know ;  he  '11  soon  have  his  title.  I  '11  put 
the  thing  to  him.  He  won't  object  if  I  wish  it 
It's  a  capital  idea.  It  will  do  Sherlock  good 
He 's  a  clever  fellow,  but  he  wants  confidence." 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  323 

Philip  had  not  time  to  object  before  Mr.  Sherlock 
appeared,  —  a  young  divine  of  good  birth  and  figure, 
of  sallow  complexion  and  bashful  address. 

"  Sherlock,  you  have  come  in  most  opportunely," 
said  the  Rector.  "A  case  has  turned  up  in  the 
parish  in  which  you  can  be  of  eminent  use.  I 
know  that  is  what  you  have  desired  ever  since  you 
have  been  with  me.  But  I  'm  about  so  much  my- 
self that  there  really  has  not  been  sphere  enough 
for  you.  You  are  a  studious  man,  I  know ;  I  dare 
say  you  have  aU  the  necessary  matter  prepared,  — 
at  your  finger-ends,  if  not  on  paper." 

Mr.  Sherlock  smiled  with  rather  a  trembling  lip, 
willing  to  distinguish  himself,  but  hoping  that  the 
Rector  only  alluded  to  a  dialogue  on  Baptism  by 
Aspersion,  or  some  other  pamphlet  suited  to  the 
purposes  of  the  Christian  Knowledge  Society.  But 
as  the  Rector  proceeded  to  unfold  the  circumstances 
under  which  his  eminent  service  was  to  be  ren- 
dered, he  grew  more  and  more  nervous. 

"You'll  oblige  me  very  much,  Sherlock,"  the 
Rector  ended,  "  by  going  into  this  thing  zealously. 
Can  you  guess  what  time  you  will  require,  because 
it  will  rest  with  us  to  fix  the  day  ? " 

*  I  should  be  rejoiced  to  oblige  you,  Mr.  Debarry, 
but  I  really  think  I  am  not  competent  to  — " 

"That's  your  modesty,  Sherlock.  Don't  let  me 
hear  any  more  of  that.  I  know  Filmore  of  Corpus 
said  you  might  be  a  first-rate  man  if  your  diffidence 
didn't  do  you  injustice.  And  you  can  refer  any- 
thing to  me,  you  know.  Come,  you  will  set  about 
the  thing  at  once.  But,  Phil,  you  must  tell  the 
preacher  to  send  a  scheme  of  the  debate, — all  the 
different  heads,  —  and  he  must  agree  to  keep  rigidly 
within  the  scheme.  There,  sit  down  at  my  desk 
and  write  the  letter  now ;  Thomas  shall  carry  it" 


324  FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL. 

Philip  sat  down  to  write;  and  the  Hector,  with 
his  firm  ringing  voice,  went  on  at  his  ease,  giving 
"  indications  "  to  his  agitated  curate. 

"But  you  can  begin  at  once  preparing  a  good, 
cogent,  clear  statement,  and  considering  the  proba- 
ble points  of  assault.  You  can  look  into  Jewel, 
Hall,  Hooker,  Whitgift,  and  the  rest :  you  '11  find 
them  all  here.  My  library  wants  nothing  in  Eng- 
lish divinity.  Sketch  the  lower  ground  taken  by 
Usher  and  those  men,  but  bring  all  your  force  to 
bear  on  marking  out  the  true  High-Church  doctrine. 
Expose  the  wretched  cavils  of  the  Nonconformists., 
and  the  noisy  futility  that  belongs  to  schismatics 
generally.  I  will  give  you  a  telling  passage  from 
Burke  on  the  Dissenters,  and  some  good  quotations 
which  I  brought  together  in  two  sermons  of  my 
own  on  the  Position  of  the  English  Church  in 
Christendom.  How  long  do  you  think  it  will  take 
you  to  bring  your  thoughts  together?  You  can 
throw  them  afterwards  into  the  form  of  an  essay ; 
we  '11  have  the  thing  printed ;  it  will  do  you  good 
with  the  Bishop." 

With  all  Mr.  Sherlock's  timidity,  there  was  fasci- 
nation for  him  in  this  distinction.  He  reflected 
that  he  could  take  coffee  and  sit  up  late,  and  per- 
haps produce  something  rather  fine.  It  might  be  a 
first  step  towards  that  eminence  which  it  was  no 
more  than  his  duty  to  aspire  to.  Even  a  polemical 
fame  like  that  of  a  Philpotts  must  have  had  a 
beginning.  Mr.  Sherlock  was  not  insensible  to  the 
pleasure  of  turning  sentences  successfully,  and  it 
was  a  pleasure  not  always  unconnected  with  prefer- 
ment A  diffident  man  likes  the  idea  of  doing 
something  remarkable,  which  will  create  belief  m 
him  without  any  immediate  display  of  brilliancy. 
Celebrity  may  blush  and  be  silent,  and  win  a  grace 


FELIX  HOLT,  THE  RADICAL.  325 

the  more.  Thus  Mr.  Sherlock  was  constrained, 
trembling  all  the  while,  and  much  wishing  that 
his  essay  were  already  in  print. 

"  I  think  I  could  hardly  be  ready  under  a  fort- 
night." 

"  Very  good.  Just  write  that,  Phil,  and  tell  him 
to  fix  the  precise  day  and  place.  And  then  we  '11 
go  to  lunch." 

The  Eector  was  quite  satisfied.  He  had  talked 
himself  into  thinking  that  he  should  like  to  give 
Sherlock  a  few  useful  hints,  look  up  his  own  earlier 
sermons,  and  benefit  the  Curate  by  his  criticism, 
when  the  argument  had  been  got  into  shape.  He 
was  a  healthy-natured  man,  but  that  was  not  at  all 
a  reason  why  he  should  not  have  those  sensibilities 
to  the  odour  of  authorship  which  belong  to  almost 
everybody  who  is  not  expected  to  be  a  writer,  — 
and  especially  to  that  form  of  authorship  which  is 
called  suggestion,  and  consists  in  telling  another 
man  that  he  might  do  a  great  deal  with  a  given 
subject  by  bringing  a  sufficient  amount  of  knowl- 
edge, reasoning,  and  wit  to  bear  upon  it. 

Philip  would  have  had  some  twinges  of  conscience 
about  the  Curate,  if  he  had  not  guessed  that  the 
honour  thrust  upon  him  was  not  altogether  disagree- 
able. The  Church  might  perhaps  have  had  a 
stronger  supporter;  but  for  himself,  he  had  done 
what  he  was  bound  to  do:  he  had  done  his  best 
towards  fulfilling  Mr.  Lyon's  desire. 


END  OF  VOL.  h 


Date  Due 

PRINTED    IN 

U.S.A. 

CAT.    NO.    24    161 

("J 

AA      000  000  761 


TLn  Elict  -  The  ccmplete 

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